


Monty Pithon's Trying Circus

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anthology, Fantasy Racism, Gen, Luume'irma, References to Drugs, circus AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-10-07 03:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 25,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: An AU branching off of Kitchen Fight here on AO3. In this AU the twins stay with Montgomery Pithon's Amazing Circus and assorted shenanigans ensue. Collected from Tumbl Into TAZ, Still Tumbl'd Still TAZ [and likely later works] which is also here on AO3.Stories in no specific order.Based on prompts from my Tumblr (internutter) where my Ask Box is always open. Even to Anons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The marvellous McElboys own TAZ, I just do horrible things with it.
> 
> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see Taako dealing with unrequited/onesided love?

Koko had frozen halfway through putting his costume on. He was staring off in a particular direction with a lovelorn expression on his face.

“Focus, dear,” said Lulu, yanking the leotard all the way up to his shoulders. “We’re on in five.”

“I can’t help it, he’s gorgeous,” Koko sighed.

Lulu tweaked the piece of tarpaulin so that it blocked his view of this particular circus’ knife thrower, Kustaad the Magnificent. “He’s straight as an arrow and knows you’re underage, Koko. Give up.”

“But he’s  _gorgeous...”_

“Everybody knows, Koko. Including his  _wife.”_  She made faces at him so she could fix his makeup. “You might have a chance with his son...”

Koko murmured uncertainly. “I know they’re unhappy, I heard them fighting...”

“That wasn’t fighting, bro-bro.”

“Three minutes, wonder twins! Goggles on or Harkin’s gonna scrag you!”

Because Harkin believed in Witch Eyes and so did a large portion of the audience. Lulu put his on because Koko wasn’t focussing on any damn thing but the wants of his own groin.

Lulu grabbed his face. “We are going to be jumping around at each other thirty feet off the ground, brother-dear. I need you to focus on the most important people -  _us.”_

He sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “I know. I know. Mind on the job.”

“Good,” she breathed easier. Just in time for them to wow the audience with glitter and dazzle.

*

There he was! The most beautiful man Koko had ever met. He was sweaty and out of breath from his part of the show and Kustaad just stole what little breath he had left. He still had a smile for the man. “Did you see?” he panted. “Amazing, right?”

Kustaad said what he always said, since he was literally old enough to be Koko’s father. “You did good, kid. If I was your dad, I’d be proud of you.” And he petted Koko’s head like a loving parent might.

Of course he did. He had a  _kid_  Koko’s  _age._  That hurt.

At least Koko had the sense not to share the acres of bad poetry he’d written about being painfully in love with an older man who wasn’t even aware that gay people existed.

Meanwhile, there was Kri. Kustaad’s son who was a mere handful of years Koko’s junior. Sure, Kri could mature to be just like his father, but he was a weedy Elven junior of about Seventy.

Who was definitely in adoration of Koko, and might have a baby crush. “I saw you,” said Kri. “You  _were_  amazing! You’re always amazing. When you did that flip and swapped around to leap backwards? I swear my heart stopped.”

It wouldn’t be fair to lead Kri along when he was so badly in love with Kustaad. And it wasn’t fair to Kri to not at least be friendly. “We got us a situation, huh?” he said.

“Huh?” echoed Kri.

“You got a thing for me. I got a thing for... someone else. It kind’a hurts, right?”

Kri sighed, pain in his eyes. “Yeah. It does.”

Koko took a deep breath. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know  _exactly_  how much this hurts.”

“Wish it didn’t,” said Kri.

“Your mouth to the gods’ ears,” said Koko.

That night, he would spend three hours waxing lyrical to Lulu about the great sacrifices he had made in the name of love. Making friends with a younger kid and bonding over how painful love can be when it wasn’t returned.

All so Kustaad could be happy that his son Kri had a reason to be happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I love the circus au you wrote! Could we see more of it? Maybe more of Kri and Koko's friendship as it grows?
> 
> [AN: AU? Nah, fam, this is coherent with the twins’ expansion-pack history. But I can take it into AU turf if you like]

“Koko! Koko,wake up, it’s kitchen day!”

“Mmmuuurrrrrhhhhnnnn...” Koko complained. “Whyyyyy...”

“We gotta get started on breakfast, Koko,” insisted Kri. “That includes the wood-gathering.”

Koko cracked open one eye. Everything was grey. “’S not ev’n dawn,” he whined.

“They heard you can cook, bro-bro,” said Lulu from their shared bunk. “Time to pay the piper.”

“Mrrrnnngh,” Koko complained, hauling himself out of a relatively comfy bunk and a pocket of warm, mingling, sibling farts. “...don’ wanna be doing this,” he whined.

“Do what I did and burn everything,” mumbled Lulu.

“That’s always your solution.” He wrestled into a pair of pants and threw on a coat. “No professional standards,” Koko yawned. “Tha’s my stoopid sister f’r ya...”

Lulu mumbled something that could pass for the words, ‘dumb baby brother’ and rolled over.

Koko mumbled and slid into the warm boots. Like fuck was he going out wood-gathering at the crack of sparrow-fart without some kind of warm footwear. He didn’t bother taking his hair out of the braids he’d worn to sleep. It was too early in the morning to worry about his beauty regime.

Working with Kri wasn’t that bad. The son of the man that Koko was crushing hard on was a nice sort. Way too enthusiastic in the mornings, but everyone had their little flaws. They were pretty close in age, but it was evident what a difference having a parent had made in their lives.

Koko had a hard enough time protecting this sweet summer child from the harsh realities of life on the road. He didn’t need to tell this kid  _everything,_  after all. The less he knew about rummaging through middens for the next meal, the better. Besides, the circus was a sweet gig. No sense in ruining it for anyone else.

“Sometimes I wish I could have the freedom you do,” Kri was rambling as they brought the baskets of sticks back to the chuck wagon. “I mean, you set your own hours, make your own decisions, you don’t have to eat  _sprouts..._  It seems like you got it all.”

Because he was tired, he said, “Except a mom.”

Kri stopped stoking the ovens. “What?”

Well, shit. Now he’d stepped in it. “Uhm. Lulu and I... we’re the only family we got. There’s... been... more than a few times when we’d trade any freedom you think we have for... a guarantee that there’s someone to look after us, y’know.”

“But you’re allowed to  _smoke,”_  said Kri.

“More like nobody can stop us smoking,” corrected Koko. “We also got nobody to make sure we got soup and blankets when we’re sick. Or... hold us when we get nightmares. Or make us breakfast...”

“We’re making breakfast,” objected Kri. “It’s our turn.”

“Yeah. Uhm. Before... we joined your circus... there were no turns. It was cook or go hungry.”

“All by yourselves.”

Now he was getting it. “Yeah. All by ourselves. Nobody else.”

Kri was rearranging wood. “Nobody but your sister.”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Since we were twelve.”

Kri got back to work, after that. Stoking the fires and following Koko’s direction in regards to ingredients and what to do with them. Eventually, he said, “Let’s make my dad something special, okay?”

He was halfway towards doing that anyway. “Sure.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Can we see more of Taako and Lup in the circus?

[Super huge thanks to [@dualityandsuch](https://tmblr.co/myuKMv_8oh6R4J-xzrdtv0A) for the lovely arts]

Life was good, working with a circus. Regular meals, so long as they didn’t mind doing the cooking. Cameraderie and companionship on a level only fellow villains could understand. The only downside was that villager people didn’t exactly trust carnie types and they trusted Elven carnie types even less.

Lulu and Koko were with a Sea Elf called La’ming Tonn, a ‘rescue’ from a far worse circus who didn’t know what kind of talent they’d had. She’d been with Mongomery’s Amazing Circus for two years and had grown into her confidence like kudzu into a neglected lot. Gossip had it that she was saving her spare shekels to get a Restoration spell or five and regain the losses caused by having her ears docked by her previous employer.

On the plus side, it meant she didn’t have to work very hard on Disguise Self. Just a simple change of her natural blue skin tone for a more Human-acceptable brownish beige, and making sure her hair or scarf covered the obvious difference between herself and the humanmen around them. On the minus side…

She, and some other Elves in the troupe could easily tell that Lulu and Koko were minors and would not let them out into the towns for any sort of shenanigans.

The other minus side was having to drag along Borstok, one of the circus roustabouts, to stand around and Be Human so that the local City Watch wouldn’t drag them off for Shopping While Elven.

The Xenophobia Wars may have ended, but the attitude that started them was alive and well and threatening to start another round.

La’ming could pass as Human. The twins could not.  _They_  were there to hand out flyers to passers-by and otherwise look like respectable Elven citizens who were just passing through. They were not to pick pockets,  _Koko,_  set things on fire,  _Lulu,_  or try on any hustles or scams,  _both of you._  They were also there to be certain La’ming didn’t flirt with any married people of any given gender.

It had all been going so good, talking hat designs with the local milliner, a half-Elf of Moon Elf origins called Mak’arune. The twins had been peering through the window at some of the Fascinators when the Watch turned up.

“Good morrow, madames and sir,” said the spokesman. “It is my duty to inform you Elves that assemblies of three or more peoples are unlawful by decree of the Duke of Westingstoke under the Riot Act of the Year of the Concussed Whelk[1].”

Koko was the first to whirl in alarm. “Where the fuck is Borstok?”

“Any further disruptive language will be treated as Public Indecency.”

The twins clapped their hands over each other’s mouths. And then La’ming really put her foot in it. She primped her vibrantly red hair and said, “Hello, there handsome. I’m pretty certain there’s been a misunderstanding. Perhaps I can clear some air?” She showed them her docked ears. Purely by accident, of course, but they could see that she wasn’t Human.

The official charge was Unlawful Assembly, but three out of four Elven folk knew that they’d been arrested for Shopping While Elven. The worst part was that they’d dispersed La’ming’s Disguise Self and revealed her blue skin to the world. Therefore adding a charge of minor fraud to the sheet.

They had been in the Ranratton City Watch Cell for half an hour and Mak’arune had yet to stop her wailing hysteria.

Lulu was propping up the wall. Koko was sitting on the single bunk and holding his head up while he watched Mak’arune pace and cry. La’ming was evaluating the cell like a professional. “New straw mattress. Decent bed frame construction. Clean cell. No rats. Maybe four tin cups out of a potential six.”

“Five silver says she faints before she stops crying,” muttered Lulu.

Koko sat up a little from his huddle. “You even  _got_  five silver?”

“Monty gave it to us for shopping,” said Lulu. “Get ourselves a little treat.”

“Well I ain’t got five silver.”

“Loan it to you.”

Koko went back to his huddle, only moving his eyes as he watched Mak’arune wail, flail, and pace along the wall and back.

“I am going,” said Koko at length, “to fucking  _stew_  Borstok.”

“Hush-hush,” said La’ming. “They can still charge you with offensive language.”

Koko swapped to _Us_  and cussed up a storm. They couldn’t get him for cussing if they didn’t  _know_  he was cussing. Only Lulu could understand what he was saying and was reacting more like he was telling a joke than turning the air blue with invective.

Four hours of utter boredom later, Montgomery Pithon, owner of the circus and actual Naga. They could tell he was arriving by the way the City Watch looked incredibly alarmed and at least one of them ran for the weapons lock-up.

Lulu could recognise the voices of his Ringmaster, Borstock, and two other Humanmen from the crew. Vellos and Brinn. Monty had brought out the big guns. Or rather, the biggest, most muscular Humanmen he had on hand to make an impressive show of things.

As if a large, black and red Naga wasn’t impressive enough.

Koko stood and switched back to Common. “Monty’s here.”

Lulu leaped away from the wall and clung to the bars. “Monty! Monty, we didn’t do anything!”

Mak’arune turned towards the bars, took a great, big, shuddering gasp… and fainted dead away.

La’ming lunged off the bed and caught her before she could hurt herself.

“MONTY!”

“MONTY!”

There he was. The man himself. If you could call a Naga who could stand at seven feet tall a ‘man’. He worked out, so his arms and chest carried impressive muscles. All under a pseudomilitary ringmaster’s jacket. What he was not wearing was his top hat, because that was resting on top of Koko’s head.

“I see you’ve been looking after my hat,” said Montgomery, retrieving it through the bars.

“I was gonna get my own, but we got arrested for doing nothing,” Koko complained.

Montgomery noticed Mak’arune. “Who’s the unfortunate maiden on the floor?”

“You know La’ming, boss,” cheered Lulu.

La’ming said, “This was supposed to be our milliner. Mak’arune. Our entire business day is shot to heck.” She patted Mak’arune at her face. “Come, love. Wakey wakey, now. It’s only our boss…”

Mak’arune whimpered and clung to La’ming.

Lulu elbowed Koko, and muttered,  _“I ship it,”_  in  _Us._

Montgomery glared at her. He didn’t understood their twin tongue, but automatically assumed they were swearing. “Quite,” he iced. “I trust my party will be allowed to purchase some  _hats_  from your excellent milliner, Lady Mak’arune?”

The nervous Watch, realising that their harassment had turned into a parade, nervously nodded and let them go.

They’d have to do at least one more performance to sell the tickets to refill the circus’ Bail Fund.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Borrowed liberally from Australian gold rush history where the Riot Act prevented groups of three or more persons and declared them Unlawful Assembly. Fun times.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> If you aren't burned out on the circus, can we get some raunchy stories from La'Ming? Maybe throw some Monty in there because he is a good snake boy. The twins can be there too I guess.

The extra performances would have to wait until they hit the next town and they would all be praying that they wouldn’t need it until long after then. For now, the focus was on packing everything up for an expeditious retreat from Ranratton.

The twins, the usual barometer for this kind of exodus, had already packed up everything they owned into their caravan. Therefore, they were helping pack up the mermaid act with La’ming. None of them were dressed to impress and La’ming took that particular creed to heart. She hadn’t even changed out of her sleepwear: a pair of briefs and a loose half-shift and nothing else. She  _had_  washed her hair and hadn’t taken it out of the towel wrapped around her head for hours.

Currently, her hair was in a scruffy bun and she had slipped into storytelling mode. As long as they gave a cursory effort to packing, things would be allowed to persist.

“…so there I am, in my knickers. Three Orcs, a Drow, and five Gnomes surrounding me, and I only had the feather fans,” La’ming said to her enthralled audience: two underaged Elves who could almost feel the way this story was going to go, and were praying that they’d actually hear it this time. “So I said to the Drow, I said–” La’ming frowned, looking outside the tent. “What the fuck does she think she’s  _doing?”_

Koko looked to Lulu, who shrugged. At that exact moment, there was a rather familiar screaming howl of immense upset. The twins knew it by heart. They had, after all, heard it for almost five hours in the Ranratton Watch Cell.

Mak’arune was having a nervous breakdown out on the larger fairgrounds. Largely because she had what looked like her entire life to date packed, piled entirely too high and definitely precariously on a tiny dolly trolly that was never made to roll anywhere over grass and packed dirt. She was in a ridiculously overblown dress and an equally overblown hat, trying to shove the overloaded dolly trolley another inch or two, and currently having a very tearful breakdown.

Koko took all of this in and said, “I’ll fetch Monty, you do the girl thing.”

“Girl thing?” boggled Lulu.

He pointed. “That’s no-man’s land, dingus. I go out there, I’m dead. Go be girls together. Fuck. I’m getting the boss, this is totally over my head. I’m gone.” To prove his point, he took off out of the tent and towards the greater mass of the disassembling circus, screaming for Monty the whole way.

Lulu looked up to La’ming, who was perched on one of the larger cases.

La’ming rolled her eyes and hopped down. “Fine. Let’s go mop her up.”

* * *

 

Montgomery could almost tell the story from the scene he encountered. The mousy, shrinking violet of a milliner had either decided or been forced to leave town. She packed everything she owned onto the only transport she had - a tiny dolly trolley that had never shifted a couch in its life. Which was now underneath a literal pile of boxes and some pieces of furniture, and some brand-new suitcases.

Mak’arune was miserable, flanked by La’ming and Lulu. The former had a scarf draped across her front that she couldn’t be convinced to wear by any other living being.

Everyone in his circus knew that La’ming’s evening half-shift was transparent as hell and showed everything underneath. Everyone knew better than to look when La’ming was dressed down. Therefore, someone in this triumvirate had convinced her to put it on and Lulu had never had the chops.

Therefore, mousy, shy, understated Mak’arune simply had some form of power that three hundred and forty people didn’t possess. Which instantly gave her worth to anyone tired of seeing La’ming’s boobs on her ‘dress down’ days.

He lowered himself to somewhere below Mak’arune’s eyeline and said, “What has happened here?” in the softest, gentlest voice he could muster.

“My reputation’s ruined,” Mak’arune wailed. “I’ve got a criminal record and my business is over and there’s nothing left so…” gasp sob. Lots more sobbing.

Lup patted her shoulder ineffectually. “She’s got nowhere to go and all of this shit,” and gestured at the overloaded dolly. “It’s… kind of our fault she’s like this, so…”

“We have to at least set her on her feet somewhere that’s… less…” La’ming gestured back towards Ranratton and trailed off.

“Less of a racist mud-hole?” suggested Koko.

“Tha’s–” hic, “that’s–” hic, “that’s my only ho-ho-hoooommme…”

Koko gestured wildly. “You see?” he said above the hubbub, “You see? I come out here, I’m dead.”

“Only because you keep trying to eat your foot, goofus,” said Lulu.

Montgomery gently took one of her hands and patted it gently. “Miss Mak’arune… you are welcome to come with us until such time as you find greener pastures.”

“I’ll never keep up,” she bawled. “I’ll be left in the gutter!”

Montgomery shared a Look with La’ming, and the twins.  _Yes, she’s a wet hen, but she’s also our problem._

“There’s a bunk space in the costume cart,” said Koko. “That’s where we hid before the Chuck Wagon Incident.”

Monty glared at him. “So that’s where you two were squirrelled away… Explains… quite a few things.”

“What about her stuff?” protested Lulu. “She’s got her stock and half her house on there.”

Monty sighed and said, “I’ll have a chat with Rynmaru and Kustaad. They have some space. We can manage some wriggle room until she can get a caravan or a cart for all…” he looked up. And up. And up, to where a stool was perched precariously on a table, which was nebulously resting on several hatboxes.

She was an excellent milliner… she likely had the core skills… “Miss Mak’arune… we have a rather urgent need for a costumer. Perhaps, while we sort out where to stow your belongings, you could have a look at some of the worst cases and see what you can do?”

That huge hat of hers had to be her own work. It was also her own advertising. Everything she did to that hat, she could do with outfits. Well. Maybe not with all the dead birds and silk flowers…

His wife was going to kill him for adopting another lost soul.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could we see more of the twins' expansion pack past?
> 
> [AN: more or less directly following from Kitchen Fight here on AO3]

Criminals were a superstitious and cowardly lot. Likewise, so were performers. Therefore, the cast and crew of Montgomery Pithon’s Amazing Circus were  _doubly_  superstitious and cowardly as any of the two previous groups. He had something of a story. He had to have reserve stories.

People loved stories. So far, the miraculous appearance of two Sun Elves was goon enough, but sooner or later, questions would be asked. He had to act quickly.

There should be some spare clothing about their size  _somewhere_  in the costume cart. He snagged the most sympathetic and gullible person who had finished their food. Lammerly. “I’m certain we’d like our new guests to feel welcome. There’s room for a couple of bunks in my office trailer, but clean clothes of good quality won’t go amiss. You savvy?”

Lammerly’s eyes went wide. “Oooh. Yes! Should I make them some spiced honey milk? The fae folk  _love_  spiced honey milk. It’ll make them feel welcomed for sure.”

Monty sprained something making the effort to not roll his eyes. “Sure. Clothes first, of course. Then the beverages. They are, after all, still eating.” He glanced over to his trailer, where the twins had finished their plates and had begun on his neglected one.

He could deal with one less meal. They clearly couldn’t. He slithered towards the chuck wagon to round up a big bowl of leftovers. Not that that was very much. A gratefully hungry crew had only left scrapings inside the containers.

Montgomery added a heel of bread and an armload of apples to the haul before slithering back to the twins. “I guessed you might be hungry,” he said, depositing the bounty before them. “Fill those empty bellies. Then we’ll get some bedrolls installed in my office,” he gestured at the cart.

“Where the money is?” said one.

“No,” said Montgomery, five steps ahead of them already.

*

It was a state that didn’t last long. The twins over-ate, then made pigs of themselves with the spiced honey milk. So naturally they were more than a little regretful about that before the night ended.

“...ooooOoOOooooOOOOoooogh...”

“While I’m inclined to advise you take it easy,” said Montgomery. “There’s an entire camp that would like breakfast. I can carry you gently there if you like.”

“...ithinki’mgunnabesick...”

“We’ll be packing up and moving out,” Montgomery advised. They had slept in their new clothes. Of course they had. “So a light, quick breakfast is advisable.”

He piggy-backed them to the chuck wagon, where the twins did a few interesting things with toast and eggs. Their bickering was greatly reduced, that morrow. A state that would definitely not last long.

Inside of two days, they started getting into stuff. They rifled through Montgomery’s office and found nothing more interesting than maps and paperwork.

He glared them down until they started putting everything back.

The instant the circus hit the next town, he had a "beginner’s act” for the twins. It didn’t take a lot of talent. Anyone could do it. “Tell me,” he said. “Have either of you heard of the Wild Man of Bor’ne’o?”

They hadn’t. He explained it. All they had to do was wear “Wild Man” costumes in a prop cage in the sideshow, talk amongst themselves in their own language, and occasionally snarl at the visitors who paid a silver to come gawk at them.

Low light conditions would help, since their odd eyes would glow in those circumstances. It would also hide the fact that their hair would be dressed to  _look_  like it was unkempt and riddled with sticks and assorted debris.

The story of the mysterious wild Elves would be heavily embellished, and the barkers would play it up for all they were worth. Meanwhile, some of the those with less to do would be making ridiculously simple ‘witch eye’ shields out of cardboard, sticks, and coloured cellophane.

Cheap, disposable, and sold for profit enough to make twice as many when the day was done. The frames included some horseshit sigils around the edge.

The rubes ate it up. Good news.

The twins were unnervingly good at it. Not so good news. On one hand, they were brilliant. On the other hand, that meant they were going to get bored.

The twins were going to need  _training._

Montgomery was going to have to come up with some horseshit so that his crew would be willing to  _teach_  these kids.

Fuck.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> I would literally kill a man for circus family protecting their cinnamon roll.

As the circus wended its way away from Ranratton, several things became clearly evident.

First: Mak’arune was a born city slicker and didn’t know the first thing about circus life, camping, foraging, or literally anything outside of city life.

“There’s no firewood store anywhere near here?”

Koko snorted as he and his sister gathered sticks and twigs. “This is what you might call the  _free range_  stuff.”

“Make your own firewood,” added Lulu.

“It doesn’t come with the bark removed? Ugh. I’m gonna get my dress dirty.”

“So don’t wear your best all the time,” advised Lulu. She was using a portion of her skirt as a basket for her sticks. “You’re out on the road. Getting your clothes dirty is normal.”

Second: Mak’arune was more than a little naïve about almost everything.

“So there are bears that hunt by dropping out of the trees?”

“Yah-huh,” said Lulu, ignoring the faces that Koko made. This was too easy. “They look like a big old beehive, and they’re always on a sturdy branch. That’s how you can tell.”

“While we’re at it,” said Koko. “We’d better warn you about the Snipe…”

Someone eventually told on them for hazing Mak’arune, but by then she had swallowed all possible tall tales. Hook, line, and sinker. It would take months to remove her from the certainty that all that was true.

In the meantime, they could track her during foraging missions by the whistling, clapping, and chanting of, “Owah tafoo lyam.”

Three: Mak’arune was a true innocent and that had to be preserved if only for the novelty value.

“So there I was, in the middle of a vat of syrup and totally naked,” said La’ming, once again temporarily forgetting that the twins were underage and should not be hearing this story. “And these three super-buff guys–”

“HOLY SHIT, MAK’ARUNE’S LISTENING TO SHRIIVO!” Koko took off towards the impending scene.

Shriivo, one of the circus contortionists, was a Changeling Druid and told far more lurid stories than La’ming could hope to accomplish. With descriptive gestures that could make Asmodeus blush.

Lulu missed out on punching her brother, but only because he was out of her range. Then the penny dropped about the inherent peril and she, too, took off towards Mak’arune at double-dash speeds.

La’ming, only a fraction of a flinch behind her, muttered, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… as she ran pell-mell for the same destination. They all knew what Shriivo’s stories could do to a person, even if two out of three hadn’t actually heard one because Monty had an over-the-horizon Fantasy radar for Shriivo telling tall tales to the twins.

“…in the middle of Grasping Vines, I had this totally naughty idea,” Shriivo said.

They arrived just in the nick of time. La’ming clamped her hands tight over Mak’arune’s eyes.

Lulu and Koko took an ear each, cushioning one palm per twin over Mak’arune’s half-Elven ears.

All three of them desperately interrupted with, “NONONONONONO, you don’t tell  _her_  that kind of story!”

At which point Montgomery turned up to scowl at all four of them and the Scene as it stood.

“Hi, Monty,” said three Elves and one Changeling, all four of them rather badly forged pictures of innocence. Especially in comparison to Mak’arune, the genuine article.

Montgomery wished, not for the first time, that he possessed eyebrows so he could raise one. As it was, the Glare of Doom had to suffice. “I certainly hope nothing untoward was happening,” he said. “And if it was,  _it better not continue.”_

“No, Monty.”

“Of course not, Monty.”

“Who do you think we are?”

“Actually, scratch that question.”

Three Elves released Mak’arune, who glanced from player to player in preserved innocence. “What’s going on?” she said.

“That was a very bad story,” said Montgomery.

Three Elves and one Changeling agreed most enthusiastically.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> Can I get some of that Luume’d Ming fam?

It should have been a peaceful trip between towns. The circus train of wagons was pretty much halfway between one fairly large city and another. It was a nice morning. The sky promised to be clear, the twins were already cooking an astonishing amount of food for everyone.

They were eighty percent through their usual morning argument, something nobody else could understand because they conducted it in their own personal language. From what Mak’arune could tell, they were still at a draw.

She was making her own kind of progress, in that she took anything the twins had to say with a healthy dose of salt. Once she realised they were pulling her leg about having a triplet, she stopped believing just  _everything_  they had to tell her.

She had even found out that Ms Ton was not the  _keeper_  of the Mermaid, but also the Mermaid herself. That had been her own erroneous assumption. More fool her. The fact that nobody had corrected her was a grey zone, though.

Everyone was out and about. Having their meals, enjoying the twins’ show, or waiting in a patient line for the next dish to come out of the chuck wagon. Some were washing dishes in an effort to be helpful. Some were washing clothes before they packed up to move on that day.

Mak’arune knew most of them by name and all of them by face. Every possible race in Faerune, every possible colour and creed. Well. All colours but one. Mak’arune missed spotting La’ming. Her familiar blue skin and lack of decent clothing were conspicuous by their absence.

Therefore, after she had her own, light breakfast, she secured a plate for La’ming and travelled the short distance between the chuck wagon and La’ming’s little caravan. She must have had a little more than usual to drink and was feeling poorly.

The door was unlatched, and when she crept in, the inside was more of a mess than usual. La’ming, still in her nightwear of a see-through half-shift and a pair of underpants, had been turning the place upside down. She looked… oh dear. She looked haggard, flushed, distracted, and distant.

“Are you all right?”

“Want…” said La’ming. Her pupils were so dilated that her eyes looked black. “…want…”

Oh dear. It was Luume’irma. The curse of Elven kind. In a few more hours, La’ming might well make a plague of herself on everyone else in the circus. She had to spare them, and her… co-worker… from such wanton display.

Mak’arune offered up the bowl. “Eat,” she said. “I’ll look after you.” Well. She hoped she could. Her own Luume episodes were light and she could willingly shut herself off from the rest of the world for the twenty-four hours in which she was -ahem- in an unseemly condition. Thank goodness it was only one day out of eight years. The rest of the time, she was perfectly capable of behaving herself.

As La’ming ate, Mak’arune scrawled a hasty message on a piece of card. Not her neatest handwriting.  _Quarantine! DO NOT ENTER,_  and then pinned it to the outside of the door before latching it as firmly shut as she could get.

La’ming - what was left of La’ming - was a bit rowdier than Mak’arune ever was. She had finished her food and was sniffing Mak’arune with evident fascination. Getting right up in there.

“Nice,” said La’ming. “Want.”

“Yes, dear,” cooed Mak’arune, reaching for the soft patches behind La’ming’s ears. “I’ve got you.” She’d only read about how to do this, and only half-remembered the method, but it seemed to be working. The full-blood Sea Elf in her arms was looking drowsy and contented.

Maybe that would suffice.

* * *

 

Lulu was on Lollygagger duty, making sure no performer, performer’s wagon, nor any camp shit was left behind. The most conspicuous offender was La’ming. She must have tied one on, last night. Lulu whacked the side of the caravan with a big stick. “Wakey-wakey, ocean princess! We gotta roll if we wanna be in the next campground by sunset!”

Silence there, and nothing more.

A hastily-scrawled note on the caravan door provided something of an answer. But also more questions.

_Quarantine! DO NOT ENTER_

Lulu clambered up to an unshuttered window. She intended to say, “Hey, you want someone to tow you?” but she didn’t get much further than, “Hey, you wanna–”

La’ming pounced, cooing, “Baby….” and dragged Lulu inside in one swoop.

* * *

 

Koko was officially worried. He knew Lulu could handle herself, but… She never took this long to get people going. It was unnervingly unlike her. He chased around the camp as various carts and wagons got on the road, asking after his sister.

Eventually, the trail lead to La’ming’s wagon, in which an argument seemed to be going on.

“Let me  _out!”_  That was Lulu! Koko picked up the pace.

_“My b_ aby…” La’ming? Had she done mushrooms or something?

“No, no, dear, the baby wants some air. Let her loose.” Oh great. Mak’arune was tied up in all of this. Which meant that it was all two steps away from absolute disaster.

Koko clambered up to the open window and said, “Can you three stop dicking arou–ooop!”

La’ming pulled him in with a gleeful cry of, “Baby…”

Koko struggled like a cat trapped in a running shower stall. “Whoa, what the shit? I’m not a baby, we’re seventy-two.”

“Baby. Babies.  _My_  babies.” La’ming wasn’t listening. Gripping them both close to her body and snuggling like their lives depended on it.

Mak’arune was frantically alternating between ear massage and attempting to pry the twins out of La’ming’s arms.

Koko would never admit how ashamed he was that he felt worlds better for all the pseudo-parental attention. Lulu, held fast in the opposite arm, glared at him with her Ultimate Don’t Tell Death Glare. She must have been feeling the same hunger-for-affection that he had. “It’s Luume’irma,” she announced.

“Aw dunk,” muttered Koko. He just relaxed and let La’ming snuggle, coo, and kiss.

At which point  _Monty_  turned up at the window and it was Lulu’s turn to impersonate a wet cat in a shower stall.

“Monty! Monty get us– mmrff mmf mfftrrl!” her words were muffled because her struggles made La’ming readjust her grip, and therefore La’ming’s elbow was close over Lulu’s mouth.

Mak’arune was busy trying to slacken or break La’ming’s iron grip, actually crying about the disaster as it was unfolding. “Please just let them loose,” she begged.

_“Good_  baby,” La’ming laid yet another kiss on Koko’s cheek.

“…whatever…” mumbled Koko.

That damned snake was  _smirking._

“Aha. That time of the decade,” he said, and shuttered the windows. After a few more minutes, the wagon started moving. Either piloted by someone or towed by someone else.

There was nothing else to do bu sit there and get attention lavished on them and watch Mak’arune be pants at preventative ear massage.

“You’re doing it wrong, by the way,” he said. “Don’t be scared about a little bit of pressure, and your circles are just a squinch too small…”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> Don't know how far you'll get with the last one, but can we see some Ming and twin bonding?

It was a very strange thing to wake up and discover that you’re a parent to twins. Especially twins who were practically adults and well capable of looking after themselves.

Not that any of that mattered. Luume-influenced family bonding was a permanent biological compulsion to care for and after anything her Luume-addled mind had classed as a ‘baby’.

Which meant any creature under the age classification of ‘of age’.

Which, in this case, meant that portions of her instincts now classed the twins Lulu and Koko as ‘her babies’. She felt compelled to check that they were eating well, enough, and regularly. She gathered books for them to read that might expand their education. She stocked up on herbal ingredients that could be used for medicinal simples and even brewed up a few.

The circus’ medical cart had never been so well-stocked, even if it  _was_  well-stocked with Elven remedies. And more than a few bundles of herbs.

She stopped in at their caravan every evening to be sure they were tucked in and felt safe. They’d been through too much with Saint Vingo’s and the mess afterwards. They needed a gentle and caring hand.

La’ming had, on more than one occasion, sat watch on their doorstep. Protecting her babies from unknown evils in the dark. She worried about them. They slept instead of meditating because they didn’t feel safe. she couldn’t help them. She couldn’t make them feel safe.

She hadn’t, before. Now that she  _couldn’t…_  it worried her.

There were even nights that she played soothing music for them on her wooden flute. To let them know that she was standing watch and guarding them from any possible danger.

She couldn’t guard them from everything. That  _really_  worried her.

Hence, why she was following them around on their foraging trip that day.

“We’ve done this like a billion times, La’ming,” complained Lulu.

“Ye-es. I know that. It’s just… Aunt Irma’s driving me nuts.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” mocked Koko from somewhere in the shrubbery. He emerged with an apron full of weird berries.

La’ming knew one thing about strange berries - high danger of them being poisonous. “You’re not planning to eat those, are you?”

Koko’s face was an open book with large print that said,  _Bitch, please._  “These are Lapiswort. I’m dying my hair.”

Lulu laughed out, “What?”

“I’m sick of being asked if I’m  _the girl one,_  so after this, they should be able to fuckin’ tell.”

“I have experience with dyes and dying hair,” said La’ming, rather desperate for something she could actually do to help her seventy-six-year-old babies. “I could help make sure it’s even and everything.”

Which lead to a long afternoon of washing, treating, and binding Koko’s hair in a plastering of a preparation of Lapiswort and alum, then coating it with leather until it set.

The next day, Koko’s hair was a vibrant and resplendent blue. Which - unfortunately for his romantic hopes - failed completely to win Kustaad’s attention at all.

Koko was right. The dye job did deflect the questions. For the week that they were entertaining Crossconnect Vale. After that, it started to fade to green as Koko’s natural golden colour began to literally shine through.

By then, they both sort of tolerated La’ming’s attempts to mother them. Most of the time.

“You are not going out in camp dressed like that, young lady.”

“Why?  _You’re_  running around in your undies and sleep slip.”

“We can totally see your boobs through that thing,” added Koko.

“And put away that pipe for today, thanks.”

Koko didn’t. “You do worse on the daily. Why should we even try to listen to you?”

* * *

 

Borstok, watching the show with Montgomery, leaned over to his boss and murmured, “It’s like watching a vodka or a wine aunt trying to parent angry teenagers.”

Montgomery had to agree. They were all hopeless at it. Exandria was probably going to chew him out for letting it happen, but… the entire circus had never  _had_  such ready entertainment on the daily.

“Shouldn’t you step in?” prompted Borstok in a rare display of competence.

“I’ll be the dad when they need me and not before.  _My_  job is keeping Miss Mak’arune from making it all explode again.” To damn Mak’arune with faint praise, she meant well and had the very best of intentions. She was also an enormous wet hen and prone to tears at the least provocation.

Borstok shrugged and said, “Fair ‘nuff.”

La’ming was taking ten deep breaths, attempting to come up with something rational. Not her forté. “Listen,” she said. “My life… is already a train wreck. I’m trying my hardest to stop yours from ending up that way too. Okay? You want I should dress better on my days off - help me out. You want me to cut down on the interesting herbology… help me out. Meanwhile i’m trying to help you out by preventing some of the huge mistakes I’ve made. Is that a deal?”

Lulu looked to Koko, who used Prestidigitation to put out his tiny clay pipe. He packed it away in his vest. “We’re stuck with you anyways. Might as well get you to wear a decent fucking nightie.”

Lulu added. “When you get down to it, ‘lion’s not as bad as some of the shit out there. It’s free and not that addictive.”

“Sure,” said La’ming, “you could quit it  _any_  time…”

They all glared at each other like cats. “I stay off the pipe for a week, you wean yourself off of those interesting shrooms you’re on half the time.”

“Deal,” said La’ming. “And I’m putting on a khaftan, too.”

It was a rocky start, but at least it was a start.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> But he's such a nice guy!

Every circus obtained temporary hangers-on. People who thought that life in a travelling show was romantic or would be fun for all of their time there. They were usually disillusioned after a handful of days and their turn to gather the horse dung from the campsite.

Most of them didn’t last the distance between two towns, often turning back to the life they lead before they fell in and out of love with the circus. There were others who were more trouble, not because they fell in love with the circus and were bad for it, but because they attached themselves to some circus  _performers._  Montgomery had had to chase more than one off of the twins, they were the truly heinous sort who didn’t care that the fabulous chefs and amazing trapeze artists were underage.

Koko, who kept fatally falling for older men, kind of hated Monty for doing that but Lulu’s gratitude balanced things out in the end.

Then there was the complications with Mak’arune.

She was with the circus, initially because she had to be. Then because she was intensely useful to the overall production. Now, because she was one of the family. This entire enormous psychotic mess had adopted her as -more or less- their new baby.

The latest wrinkle in the entire mess of organised chaos was the fact that Mak’arune had picked up an ‘admirer’. Koko was the first to complain about him, and not about the latest interruption to his nonexistent love life. In fact, he was on Montgomery’s doorstep and looking pissed.

“Hey, Monty…”

“Your last potential paramour was almost old enough to be your grandfather.”

“Not about him,” said Koko. “I got it. Even though he was a total silver fox. Anyway. Y’know Rellian Danto?”

“I’m aware of his existence…”

“Total scumfuck. He’s already tryin’ to get Mak’arune to buy him his own caravan.” Koko had a tray of a more sumptuous breakfast

“Convincing her of this is the problem,” said Montgomery. “It always is. I’ll have a quiet chat with the man.”

“Good,” said Koko.

Montgomery took his breakfast with him, to observe the scumfuck in action. The dude  _looked_  like a perfectly respectable Humanman, but he had had to get his sumptuous clothes from somewhere and he’d had a sob story just ready to roll. In fact, he’d had several.

Danto had his hands around Mak’arune’s. As Montgomery moved closer, he could hear some of the wheedling.

“All I’m saying is that we deserve a nicer space. You’ve seen the brochures I handed you, aren’t they beautiful homes? Don’t you want us to have a  _home_  together?”

“I have. I do,” Mak’arune  was looking more than a little pressed. “They’re just so enormous. We couldn’t keep up with the circus.”

“Who says we have to? We can stick to wider roads and catch them up in the bigger towns. That way you can work on your  _best_  material away from all the distractions.” A gesture he made took in the entire rest of the circus as ‘distractions’. “It’ll be just you and me and the safer roads in a home just right for the both of us.”

Translation: He was isolating her and readying her to absorb more poison as it dripped from his lips to her pointed ears.

Fortunately, Mak had a good memory. “You need your sleep. There wouldn’t be much time for me to use my sewing machine on everything. And I know you love using my buttons on your look. I don’t think–”

Danto went from lovingly fawning to furious rage in instants. “You don’t think,” he interrupted. “You never think! You stupid bitch, I’m doing this for you, you ungrateful cow! You’re lucky I don’t smash your idiot head in and see if anyone can tell the difference.”

Montgomery was up behind him so silently, just in the right moment. “And you’re lucky I don’t test my poison on you for threatening my staff.” He loomed half a foot taller than Danto, hood flared and fangs visible.

He acted like all Human weasels caught in the act of being completely vile, using three of the four D’s: Deny, Delay, Distract, and the final, unused Decamp. “Hahaha,” he laughed. “That’s a little affectionate joke between us. Is that a breakfast by the twins? How about you get us some, honey?”

Mak’arune said, “Just yesterday you told me they only cooked slop and you wanted me to make all your dinners…”

“I’d like to understand the meaning of this joke,” said Montgomery. “Miss Mak’arune, do you have one?”

Mak’arune shook her head.

The twins appeared out of nowhere, freshly made up and ready for a show on the trapeze. “Explain it to us,” they said.

“And then explain why you hit on a minor,” added Lulu. She was distinguishable from Koko because of the peplum on her leotard and the absence of full-length gloves. They both had their goggles off and showing their witch eyes. Lulu briefly told Mak’arune, “He totally groped me and said I’d look better in a red dress.”

“That was one of the things you told me,” said Mak’arune.

“Listen,” said Danto, “I’m a nice guy… but you people are a whole bunch of untrustworthy bastards. Especially you two pieces of gutter trash shit.” He pointed out the twins. “If this universe was just, you’d have died in the cradle.”

Mak’arune gasped. It was not her upset gasp that proceeded so many fountains of tears, but a gasp of anger. They had seen Mak’arune upset. They had seen her weep and howl in despair. They had never seen her fury.

“Rellian Virtue Danto, how  _dare_  you! These poor babies have been through seven kinds of hell in their lives and they need patience, care, and understanding! You do  _not_  speak of  _children_  like that if you want to have any hint of my favour in the future  _at all!”_

This was the last thing he expected. He thought he had Mak’arune completely gulled. Nevertheless, he attempted to distract from the causal event. “They look like adults, especially dressed like  _that._  How’s a man supposed to know they’re kids?  _You_  look like a kid. The blue bitch looks like a kid. Even your grown-ass magic act looks like a kid and  _he_  has a kid.”

“That ‘blue bitch’,” iced Mak’arune, “is my best friend.”

La’ming would be interestingly shocked to learn that. Montgomery covered his shock at learning the exact same thing by remaining on topic. “I heard you tell a joke. I would like to know what’s so funny about dashing someone’s brains in.”

Danto ran through the only gap between the people surrounding him. He did not stop anywhere in camp. He didn’t stop anywhere  _outside_  of camp, either.

“Just as a hint,” said Lulu. “The more often someone tells you they’re nice, the less likely they are to actually  _be_  nice.”

“Think about it,” said Koko. “How often do  _you_  tell people you’re nice?”

“I… don’t…  _have_  to…” she said, light dawning.

Montgomery let his hood fall and his fangs retreat. “Good. Lulu… Koko. You’re on in ten. Let’s make it a great show. Miss Mak’arune… I think some calming work for you before lunch? We don’t want your excellent stitching to suffer from the actions of one asshole.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> I'd like to order an angst sandwich of new mom Ming going missing and the twins panic on some tearful reunion bread with some purr pit on the side.

Several carts had broken, thus causing the circus to come to a halt a mere day outside of their next destination. Options were not good. Carry the circus to their field by relay, overload the existing wagons and carts and hope no more breakages happened, or send someone ahead to fetch a cartwright and take a hit to the Bail Fund.

While they camped and argued, hardly anyone noticed La’ming ‘borrowing’ a horse to head into the plentiful town of Highmarrow.

Not until lunchtime, when Lulu and Koko had made lunch and entertainment together in the chuck wagon, when they noticed that their adopted mother was conspicuous by her absence.

“LIsten, see. We got some horses that ain’t got carts to pull. We can load them up and load up the people as much as can,” said Borstok. “Our strong man can lift two hundred pounds.”

“Lift, yes,” countered Montgomery. “Carry… not so much. You can lift one hundred and fifty pounds. Can you carry it far?”

“Monty…” said Koko.

It was the note of worry, rather than the nickname, that caught Montgomery’s attention. Koko was generally cold to others and paranoid about everything. Anything he could laugh off, the circus could work around. Therefore, anything that made him show concern was a sure indicator of something gone or was about to go seriously bad. “A moment,” said Montgomery. “What’s happening, Koko?”

“Our mo– La’ming’s gone missing,” he said, twiddling with the ties of his tunic. His luume-influenced adoption by the Sea Elf performer hadn’t been the smoothest. He and his sister were “only a few decades” away from being officially adults. That little verbal stumble was actually a good sign for Koko.

“Missing,” Montgomery repeated.

“She took our horse and left a note,” Koko handed it over.

It read,  _Gone for cartwright, you kids stay good. Should be back by lunch._  And a scribbled heart and her signature.

“It’s way past lunch,” Koko added. “I know we’re still fighting over the next step, but… Maybe some humanmen could go lookin’ or something?” He stopped twiddling and straightened himself. “Not that I care or anything. It’s just that The Mermaid’s one of our biggest draws an’ we just got a Major Restoration on her ears ‘n’ shit…”

A gift that resulted from the twins running hustles over the last five towns. La’ming had been overjoyed while the twins downplayed it at every opportunity. The kids were of the opinion that no Elf deserved to have their ears docked. La’ming was of the opinion that she had the best kids in the universe -nay, in the planar system, and twitched her ears about just because she could.

…ears that she sometimes forgot to hide or disguise when going into new towns.

“Oh shit,” Montgomery muttered. He rushed over to the largest cluster of Humans in their impromptu camp and interrupted their bickering with, “One of our own has gone missing in or around Highmarrow. It’s Ms Ton, so go asking after the horse without making it sound like she’s stolen it, thankyou. I need word of what’s happened to her.”

*

The downside of places like Saint Vingo’s was that some of its dirty secrets got passed around. La’ming couldn’t blame her babies for passing on the curses of its spells on to the future incarcerators of Administrator Citron. Not even when such spells had been passed around enough to use on  _her_.

Currently, her captors had her trapped in Citron’s Malevolent Sensory Deprivation. She was blind, deaf, and incapable of feeling anything. It could drive a being insane to be without any kind of sensory input at all. She couldn’t even hear the rhythm of her own body.

Koko, on the rare occasions that he spoke about what he endured under Citron’s heel, had said that when he gave up on screaming and struggling, the spell would lift and his senses would return. Sometimes, he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion when that happened.

Now she could understand why. That spell was  _terrifying._

Light, sound, and feeling returned, and she was in a cage. Facing down the impassive and incredibly ugly face of Lybirti Sor. Her former owner/handler. Her former master.

“You got old and fat,” she said, and winced at the sting in her newly-restored ears.

“You don’t talk unless you call me master,” he said. “You behave yourself and life’ll be good for you again.” By which he meant, do as he said, fawn, simper, and let him have his way, and he might give her enough to eat every day and not hit her so much.

“Fuck you,” she said. She had enough time to hiss at the blistering pain in her ears from Citron’s Blazing Correction before Sor sent her back into the cloying darkness of sensory deprivation. She relaxed and let the spell dissipate so she could say, “Fuck you with the rough end of a pinecone.”

She had to stay sane, keep Sor off of her, and survive long enough to figure out a way to get back to her babies. She didn’t care if her new ears burned to cinders, she would fucking kill this guy.

No matter how often she returned to the world of feeling in tears. No matter how hoarse her throat. No matter how often the fine webs of her ears seared with her every show of resistance. She. Was. Going. To  _kill_  him.

*

When the circus descended on Lybirti Sor, it was not the Humans alone who came with weapons drawn and threats ready on their lips. A good two thirds of the circus came for him. Orcs, Elves, Dragonborn, Changelings… all the heaviest hitters. And three glass cannons in the form of Lulu, Koko, and Mak’arune.

The Orcs punched the shit out of him, the Dragonborn scorched him with their breaths, the Changelings confounded him as they stabbed him with their blades. Montgomery got a bite in before the twins freed La’ming and Mak’arune healed her blisters.

The two Elven children gave La’ming a choice. Wand or Blade. One offering per twin.

She picked up the wand from Lulu, accepted an ingredients pouch from Koko, and drew a bead on her former captor. Three deep breaths as the rest of the team stepped back from the bloody and bruised form of Lybirti Sor. La’ming chose her spell. She said, “Abra-ka-fuck  _you!”_  and cast Cloud of Daggers directly in the area where Sor was kneeling and begging for mercy.

La’ming watched him die with an impassive face, then ran off to be sick behind the nearest tree.

Lulu, Koko, and Mak’arune ran after her, not caring to go through Sor’s pockets for anything valuable. Fortunately, Borstok was there to make up for that lack.

It was quite the scene. La’ming retching bile as she clutched at the tree while three Elves swarmed, trying to soothe her. Lulu and Koko knew the effects of those spells well. Too well. They knew what those spells had done to them. Intimately. They knew what the aftermath of facing a captor was like.

“Deep breaths, now,” said Koko. “Breathe in the clean air. Feel it in your lungs. You know it’s over. It’s over for good. You got ‘im.”

Lulu, a step ahead in the logic processes, had realised that it was their actions who had hurt their adopted mother. She was weeping as she attempted to comfort La’ming. All she could say was variants of, “I’m sorry,” over and over again.

Mak’arune fussed with draping La’ming with her shawl and some petticoats and rubbing whatever handy portion of La’ming’s body was close by whilst rattling through all the herbal remedies and simples she could make with whatever herbs she could spot at the moment.

Koko was the one who slipped La’ming his pipe and some dried dandelion. Nobody had a single word of objection.

The circus arrived at Highmarrow a day late, with freshly-repaired wagons and two acts currently out of commission. Technically three, if one counted the Conjoined Twin Act, which was a combination cooking show, fake freak exhibit, and catering. Those placards were stowed in one of the moving carts as a small family of Elves cuddled together in the Big Hammock.

It lay strung between La’Ming’s caravan - the one she shared with the twins - and Mak’arune’s, which she inherited from La’ming. It was big enough to hold ten adults, which meant that La’ming, the twins, and Mak’arune were all cuddled together in it with as many pillows, blankets, and throws as they could cram into its voluminous folds.

Montgomery checked up on them occasionally and brought them meals.

There was an assortment of purrs within the cluster. Loud, soft, and stressed, though it would take an expert to tell who was making which kind of purr. As long as they were purring, Montgomery rationalised, they were on their way to being okay.

He really hoped he wouldn’t have to drag his wife and youngest all the way to their next destination for some emergency counselling. Exandria never travelled well, the poor sweetheart.

In the late afternoon, an almost unnatural hush from the Elven huddle prompted Montgomery to carefully excavate his way through the encompassing blankets to investigate. Encountering a mildly hostile Koko prompted him to stop.

“Boss or not,” Koko whispered, “You wake our moms and I’ll magic missile your fucking tail off.” Just visible nearby were the cuddling, slumbering forms of La’ming and Mak’arune.

Montgomery wisely decided not to call any attention to Koko’s Fantasy Freudian Slip.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> Show us Monty's wife!!!!

Good news, bad news, good news... good news, he had an act that was a guaranteed draw. Practically everything the Elf twins Lulu and Koko did was an instant draw for paying customers. This included the Wild Things of Bor’ne’o, their cooking in the Chuck Wagon, and their futzing around with the high-wire folk. They could draw a curious crowd by washing dishes. It was amazing.

Bad news, that selfsame act was the biggest drain on the circus’ Bail Fund. No matter how well they dressed, acted, or behaved, they were bound to get arrested for doing something whilst Elven. That was also amazing, but in the opposite direction.

The twins spent most of their time pretending they didn’t speak common. Playing the fool at virtuoso levels while the circus got acclimated to them. Montgomery, being ringmaster, owner, manager, and ersatz parent to the entire fucking circus, kept them with him in his caravan for mutual safety.

Five arrests in as many towns had left the kids gun-shy about going anywhere or doing anything without some kind of guardian nearby. Which meant Montgomery had them permanently in his shadow whenever they weren’t working. He was, after all, the only figure in authority who seemed to hold a vested interest in their welfare at all.

Gods alone knew how they were going to handle the Winter Campgrounds.

Gods alone knew how his wife was going to handle the additions to the informal family.

Thus it was that he took the last turn towards Varmvale with some trepidation in his heart. Further south than Neverwinter, the snows never reached it. The lands were wide and the seaside proved a draw for the wealthy when the circus was out touring. There, the friends and family of the tour waited for winter for the circus to come home.

His dear darling Exandria didn’t travel well, and managed the town as mayor during all seasons, all whilst raising their hatchlings in the comfort of their home.

Lulu and Koko roused from their torpor in the caravan and emerged to peer over the vertiginous curves of the main road to Varmvale. They chattered to each other in their own tongue, sounding trepidatious as they spoke.

“Looks like a pretty small town, Monty,” said Lulu eventually, ignoring Koko trying to pull her back into the safety of the caravan. “How are we gonna earn enough to get out of it?”

“We don’t have to,” he said. “This is where the circus winters.” He did not call it ‘home’ as Koko was allergic to that word. “You two can stay with my family or reside in one of the cabins for the cold season, though we do expect you to keep it clean and orderly if you do.”

“No way,” said Koko. “There’s a Mama Monty?”

“A Mrs Monty,” Montgomery allowed, using their own terms. “And a few Montlings.”

Koko muttered something in the twins’ language and got an elbow from Lulu. Whatever he said must have been rude. Montgomery ignored the exchange.

Lulu said, “Just checkin’, you’re -uh- you’re not... fattening us up for Candlenights or that, right?”

“Nonsense. Roast Elf is for Midsummer.” Montgomery could bite himself for that joke. These were flighty kids, prone to just run off if things looked too dangerous. “You’re way too profitable alive and whole to become any portion of any given meal.”

“Promise?” said Koko, to receive another elbow from his sister.

“No harm will come to you,” he said. The words seemed to be wearing a groove in his forked tongue. These kids must have come afoul of a lot of liars in their brief years. “You two make more in ticket sales than you cost in bail, I want you to stay with us.”

They didn’t fight on the road down into the vale. They clung to rails or permanent parts of the caravan until the inherent fall into the bottom of the valley was no longer a threat. After they were on more level ground, they adjourned to the interior of the caravan for a good old brawl.

Montgomery let them battle the ginger out of their veins. It would be a while yet before the long and winding roads took them towards the gigantic parking zone for the circus’ storage and stables. The twins eventually tired of their battle and surfaced to watch from the relative safety of the caravan roof. An ideal spot to turn and bolt from if things looked dangerous.

Montgomery could pick out the cosy little house where his family resided. He could spot Exandria by her hat. That silly straw hat she always wore when she was working in the garden. He could see his oldest daughter, too. Gathering her share of the harvest into a basket on top of her head.

Almost. Almost there. Other houses escaped his notice. He couldn’t care less about them right now. His eyes were on the next fork in the road, the next turn, this landmark or that. Every mark that meant he was closer and closer to his family’s loving arms.

They were waiting for him in the parking grounds. Exandria, Lilly, Rosemary, and a new little one in Exandria’s arms. This new figure had a hood. A boy. He had no heed for whether or not the twins followed, he simply sprang off the caravan and rushed to greet his first son.

The baby boy was concerning himself with gumming at his own wrists. He must be working on his infant fangs. Thank goodness Yuan’ti poison glands didn’t come in until the child was in their teens.

“More waifs and strays?” Exandria was peering past Montgomery’s left arm.

Only now was he aware of the presences so close to his tail. The twins clustered close to each other and, using his body as a shield, hunkered out of immediate grasping range whilst simultaneously peering around at the collected ‘Montlings’.

“They don’t have anyone else,” said Montgomery. “They’re very talented performers and... they need security.”

Exandria sized the two of them up in a cold second. “You two are welcome to my home. Any time.”

Lulu and Koko exchanged glances, exchanged chatter in their private tongue. Eventually, Koko said, “No... thank you?”

Lulu, bolder of the two, said, “Is is safe to hold your baby?”

“His name is Daniil.” Exandria had a dark joke, too. “If you don’t steal him, he won’t bite.”

Montgomery helped Lulu hold baby Daniil. He wondered anew that such a small creature could exist. Lulu and Koko seemed to be wondering, too. They clustered around Daniil.

Daniil cooed for the new faces, and wriggled into the twins’ body heat with small, happy noises.

For the first time in Montgomery’s hearing, the twins started to purr.

“Oh gods, he’s adorable,” Koko crooned, thus gaining eternal favour in Exandria’s eyes.

“He’s so cute,” singsonged Lulu. “I wanna steal him already.”

Good gods, that was an actual joke. They  _were_  getting confident. Montgomery was impressed. Nevertheless, he wanted to hold his baby boy.

“My turn, thank you,” he said, easing his son out of teenaged Elven arms. The twins still hovered close, watching Daniil squirm in his infant way. “Welcome to the family,” he said. To his son and to the twins at the same time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MayaKnightStar on Chapter 3:
> 
> I love the twins and laming, they are so cute! Can we hear a full story from Laming ? Thank you!!!!!

Candlenights in Varmvale was something else. The entire circus, their families, and incidental people who just happened to live there year round gathered in the city hall for festive food, too much alcohol, and general socialisation. This also meant too many adults getting drunk and too many rebellious younglings sneaking one too many Winter Ciders. It was Candlenights. The kids were either high on sugar or approaching food comas, the grownups were in circles and sharing stories.

Montgomery and Exandria, usually in charge of curtailing the bawdier stories, had been plied with a little too many ciders and were coiled around each other and snuggling by the hearth while they waited for the room to stop careening around so much. Which meant that La'ming, the Circus' chief flirt and source of terribly bawdy tales, was free to hold court with all the kids who shouldn't be so entranced by her bad examples.

However, it was Koko's turn to have the floor. "...easy cum, easy go-gurt," he slurred. He had _definitely_ had a few too many Winter Ciders.

La'ming, listening intently, roared laughing. She, too, was well on her way to being gently pickled by cider. "Reminds me of the time I nearly burned down a cat-house in Featherstroke..." she began.

The twins reflexively looked over to Montgomery, who was distracted from the tilting room owing to an opportunity to snoodle with his wife, and took a chance.

"Sounds like a fun time," said Lulu.

It worked. La'ming launched straight into her story.

* * *

 

 

Few words about Featherstroke. They forged their town first with their mining, but literally everything tailed out and, as a way-point between places more interesting, the population went with the only way to make money they had left. It's a fun town. If it ain't a bawdy house, it's a casino, and if it ain't either, it's probably both.

They also make a _really_ interesting drink out of the mosses and vines that grow on the rocks out that way. Watch out for the green jelly, that's all I can say about that.

Now, I wasn't rich enough at the time to afford the house of _best_ repute, if you know what I mean. However, they have some very nice therapy that earned the town its name. These guys can use the _entire_ chicken if you get my drift. Feels very nice by the way. Now, I don't remember a _lot_ of what happened? I'd had a lot of those green jellies, and thanks to some mishaps in my formative years, my cycles a little... youknow. Wierd.

When Aunty Irma strikes plus alcohol, it's never pretty. I wanted to grab hold of the world with both hands and I couldn't even focus on one part of it.

So there I am in the middle of the steam parlour, in these teeny tiny underoos that leave nothing to the imagination, putting out more heat than they're putting in of you get my drift. There's like thirty guys, girls, and whatever else around. Some are customers, some are staff, and my masseuse fuckin' _notices._ Instant panic. They're trained for lots of shit, but the Elves having a Happening usually make better arrangements. At better places.

Then _some_ genius decides to blow powdered Dreamroot in my face. You know what they say about Dreamroot, right?

Restful sleep, peaceful dreams, but give to Elves to make them scream.

Big. Fuckin'. Mistake.

Something real whacked out was going on in my noggin, that night. I was tripping major league balls. Now you have to understand that I had no understanding of what was real, and I only have what others told me after the fact. As best as I can remember, the place was suddenly full of Skitterclaw Roaches. I somehow managed to get up, roaches everywhere. Horny as hell. I grab the nearest thing, which was a flask of their best massage oil. Also made out of the vines and mosses.

They can do a _real_ lot with vines and mosses. Hur hur hur.

I throw the oil. Really badly. It catches on the way over the candles, it catches in the candles, some of it catches on its way over to the splash zone.

Right. In the crotch. Of my poor unfortunate masseuse. It hit the boobs of another masseuse and the ass of my immediate neighbour on the massage tables. Talk about great globes of fire. Even. More. Panic.

There's screaming. There's pandemonium. There's me in my undies screaming, "want," at the top of my lungs, I think the whole place is full of the most disgusting, toxic bug there are... Three people are on fire. It's getting hot in more ways than one.

Thank the Gods that one of the clients there was a half-Elf who not only knew their shit but also dealt in a little of some primo 'lion. Dude cast Pyrotechnics on _all_ of his dandelion seeds right under my nose. So now I'm in Luume, under the influence of Dreamroot, overdosed on green jelly, and now I've got a solid snootfull of the dankest fluff ever created by the hands of intelligent creatures. In. My. Undies. Only.

About the only creature I recognise at this point is my masseuse, who's still on fire.

So I jumped him. In more ways than one. Let's just say we got the fire smothered. He. Was. _Not._ Prepared. Neither was I.

I don't really know what happened after that bit, but the next morning I woke up on the landslide side of town, covered in therapeutic mud, clinging to someone's ass. Staring at the face of the local Watch, who were not pleased to see me.

They said, "You had a nice night, miss?"

And I said, "I dunno. This isn't even my donkey!"

* * *

 

 

La'ming waited for hoots of laughter. For applause. For some expressions of disgust or -in fact- any kind of normal reaction to a story like that.

Unfortunately, the twins had fallen asleep, propped against her.

Too much cider.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> Go back to your roots. Give us some circus angst.

Everyone knew about the horrors of St Vingo’s by the time the twins fount Montgomery’s circus again. Montgomery had made the mistake of assuming that they would be safe in the arms of their extant family. He had assumed erroneously.

Their remaining living relatives - pure assholes. Once the grandfathers died, all promises of a safe home and a good future were forfeit. Which was why the circus found them again - destitute, desperate prostitutes who ran for the shelter of scum and villainy that was Montgomery’s Amazing Circus.

He let them be as idle as they wanted to be until they hit the Winter Campgrounds in Varmvale. It seemed fair. They needed time. Time to recover. Time to establish normalcy. Time to heal both mentally and physically from their misadventures. Time… that nobody had enough of.

Montgomery woke in the wee small hours to the sound of shouting and camp gear getting knocked over. That was Koko’s voice. He slithered out of his warmed bed to see what the ruckus was, not even bothering to sling on a coat, and remaining in only his sleeping cap.

Koko was out in the campgrounds, shouting at phantoms. He had a wooden spoon in one hand, aiming it like a wand. Judging by the burned end, it was not a wood that was friendly to magic. Judging by the scorch marks around camp, this was not an activity friendly to anyone.

He had to get this situation calmed down before anyone happened to anyone else.

“Keep away from them, you bitch,” Koko panted. “I got my wand. You can’t get them. You can’t have them!”

“That’s right,” said Montgomery, facing the invisible foe of Koko’s imagination with him. “You want them, you’ll have to get through me.”

Koko seemed startled a little. “Monty?”

“That’s right. It’s me.” Because of the situation, he used his least-favourite nickname on himself. “Monty. I want you to take three deep breaths, and name five things you can see. Take your time, now.” Time was the important factor. Koko’s body was awake, but his brain was still having a nightmare.

Koko looked around, still having difficulty discerning reality from phantasm. “Moon. Moon! I see th’ moon. Trees. Caravans. Campfire. You look fuckin’ stupid in your sleep cap, Monty.”

“I’ve been told,” he said dryly. “You’re doing great. Name four things you can hear, now.”

Koko’s ears twitched. “I hear… leaves rustling. The campfire coals cracking. There’s an owl… I hear La’ming snoring.”

Montgomery snorted. “Halverdale could hear La’ming snoring… That’s great. Concentrate on three things you can feel. Let’s hear them.”

Koko closed his eyes. “I… have… too tight a grip on this spoon… I feel… dirt… under my feet…”

He was starting to panic a little. Montgomery could tell by the way Koko’s ears drooped back and started swivelling closer to his head. He reached out and stroked Koko’s cheek while holding his hand. “Take your time, Koko.”

Tears gathered at the edge of his eyes. “I feel you.”

“That’s good. Good. Deep breath. Tell me about two things you can smell.”

“Horse farts and Naga’s bed funk.” Koko opened his mismatched eyes. The little asshole was fully awake and skating on thin ice as he always did.

“Last step, kid,” Montgomery started guiding him back to the caravan from whence he had come. “One thing you can taste.”

Koko smacked his lips and grimaced. “I need to brush my teeth. My mouth is gross.”

“After dawn,” Montgomery suggested. Inside the twins’ caravan, Lulu was still in bed, arms outstretched for a sibling that wasn’t there. She had only just begun whimpering in her sleep.

Sleep. Not meditation. They didn’t trust their safety. Not yet. The Starlights and their dreams of riches had ruined what little trust had remained in the twins’ souls. Now they slept every time, and meditated rarely, if at all.

Koko clambered into Lulu’s reach, whispering, “It’s all right. We’re safe. They’re gone.” The fact that he could summon only half a breath’s worth of a safe-comfortable-secure kind of purr was telling, and telling harshly, that he wasn’t sure, either.

Montgomery closed their door for them, fetched his coat, and kept watch over their caravan until the dawn coloured in the landscape. They would both likely need sleeping sacks to prevent another random outbreak of somnambulistic battles of old ghosts from their past.

They would definitely need heavy counselling from Exandria when they were safely within the boundaries of Varmvale.

Which left Montgomery the problem of finding light, summer-rated sleeping sacks as the Autumnal chill kept strengthening, and puzzling out who the twins could talk to until Exandria was within reach.

All he could do in the meantime was keep them supplied with dandelions and mead, in the hopes that it would at least calm their fears until something better came along.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> If I planned this right, it should be about time to see the twins trying to hook up Mak and Ming (I want to draw this and hopefully when I can crank out some art before you post it) :P

Love, they say, is strange. It certainly isn’t logical, and the road to the best and longest-lasting loves is long, winding, and full of potholes. Lulu and Koko were pondering this as they shared a pipe, well out of anyone’s view.

“We know they’re in love,” said Koko, circling the distant figures of La’ming, their mother figure by Luume-adoption, and Mak’arune, famously repressed costume nerd. They were currently in the centre of the circus campground, standing five feet apart so that no-one would ‘accidentally’ bump them into each other. “Everyone in the circus knows they’re in love. Hell, even  _Borstok_  clued into it.” Puff. “So why don’t they?”

Lulu took the pipe out of his fingers and inhaled deeply. She blew the dandelion smoke out of her nostrils. “It’s been like a decade or something. I wanna be a flower girl at their wedding, not an Honour Guard.”

Koko was smiling. “Lulu? I have had a genius idea.”

“More genius than locking them in a trailer together for the night? Or sending one of them to fetch the other while they were skinny-dipping? Or pretending the seasonal sniffles was a curse that could only be cured by true loves’ kiss?”

“It was better than getting them drunk and hoping for the best,” sniped Koko. “Or sliding rings on their fingers when they passed out and lying our asses off about them being married already. Or trying to get Mak’arune to keep La’ming warm after ‘someone’ misfired a frost curse on Mom’s mermaid tank.”

Koko took the pipe back and inhaled a measured half of the dried weeds left in the tiny pipe bowl. He let his smoke out through the gap in his teeth. “Sure. Fine. We’ve both had our fuckups. But listen. We’re close to Thanerdon.”

“That moralistic ass pit that made everyone rent rooms so that there’d be no shenanigans? They never had enough rooms for all of us and everyone had to pair– Ooooohhhh…”

Koko let her have the last of their pipe. “Everyone had to pair up. They made us do a blood test to prove we were sibs and everything.  _And_  they’re relentlessly heteronormative. Which means they put the boys with the boys…”

Lulu drew a heart around their prospective parentals with the stem of their pipe. “And the girls with the girls. Now all we gotta do is scam Monty Junior into going to Thanerdon.”

* * *

 

The plan was on. The entire circus was in on it. Well. The entire circus except for Mak’arune and La’ming, both oblivious as hell. Everyone who was a part of the circus suddenly became exemplary citizens of high moral standing, and all paraphernalia of naughtiness was well concealed.

So well concealed that some of them wouldn’t find it until next spring, but they all agreed that it would be worth it if those two finally admitted something about each other and their feelings.

Montgomery Jr, as well as five other crew members, kept the proposed roommates occupied for a majority of the day. Montgomery had Mak’arune securing paperwork, and other circus crew had La’ming run off her feet with errands, often to the other side of Thanerdon.

The twins secured their own room early. A modest twin (ha!) with single bunks that they would have to muss up half of because their own nighttime peace of mind included being able to reach out in their slumber and find their sibling. On the rare occasion that they felt safe enough to meditate, they did so back-to back and wands in hand.

Thus, the two lovers-in-waiting found themselves with just one bedroom with one bed to sharem, and the individual of their affections being dragged into the room by one of the twins.

“Its this or jail, Mom,” Lulu said, shoving her adoptive parent by her shoulders. “And we already spent the bail fund on the rooms, so… It’s not really a choice.”

Koko, meanwhile, grunted as he shoved Mak’arune closer to his adoptive parent. “They say… nothing naughty can happen. It’s just for the week. We… meditate… anyway… (Oof) So… what’s… the big… deal?”

It was clear that inertia and abject mortification had produced a pretty darn effective repulsion shield that kept La’ming and Mak’arune three feet apart and burning bright with embarrassment. The twins checked each other across the seemingly impassable gulf.

Koko made the universal gesture for,  _What now?_

Lulu made the universal gesture for,  _I don’t fuckin’ know…_

Koko attempted being glib. “Well you two already know each other, so I guess it’s arm wrasslin’ to see who gets the side nearest the privy or something.”

Lulu, too, tried to lighten the mood. “Mom snores when she lies on her back so you might have to jab her in the ribs real hard if that happens.”

They both apparently rolled ones. Silence stretched as the ruddy tides of mortification rose to conquer two Elf faces. Koko side-stepped towards the door. Lulu followed suit.

“We’ll… uh… we’ll leave you two to it.”

“Don’t do anything we haven’t done,” chirped Lulu.

Five seconds out in the hall, after they shut the door, they switched to  _Us._

_“What the fuck was that? ‘Don’t do anything we haven’t done’? What the fuck, Lulu?”  
_

_“I couldn’t help it. I panicked. It was meant to be a joke.”  
_

_“Nobody’s laughing, sis…”  
_

_“I fucking noticed.”  
_

Koko’s ear twitched. They were talking. Well. Saying stuff in the vicinity of each other.  _“Shuddup, they might be working something out.”_

Both twins put an ear to the door.

* * *

 

Mak’arune had gone past vermillion and was heading towards maroon because she also hardly dared breathe. Silence stretched like a prisoner on the rack. She coughed delicately to remind herself that air existed and she was free to partake.

“So,” said La’ming.

“Yeah,” allowed Mak’arune.

“I’m sorry about those kids,” she allowed. “I think they think we’d be cute together or something.”

“Yeah.” Her brain caught up with her mouth, and then raced off with it. “I mean no. I mean… we could, I suppose, but there’s complications. I mean. You’re a perfectly nice person and everything. Of course you are. I think you’re doing a wonderful job with those two scamps. It’s just… I always thought…”

La’ming rescued her with, “We can take turns meditating on the bed. It’s only four hours each.”

Outside the door, Koko shouted, “DAMNIT!”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lily on Chapter 8:
> 
> I love these so much, particularly the circus chapters. Would you ever consider writing one where Lup and Taako return to visit the circus post hunger?
> 
> [AN: I originally figured they'd stay on Tosun and whatnot, so this is an AU Universe Alteration. An AU UA if you will]

Out of fame, they made a fortune. Taako's cookbooks were suddenly in high demand again. Lup and Taako together found a scribe who could take down their rapid-fire bickering narrative in real time and put out their own version of a tell-all book about their time on the Starblaster. Taako was currently allergic to Lucretia, so Lup deferred. He had lived with the scars longer than she'd even been aware of them.

Now they were doing publicity tours, helped by the fact that Lup was literally in the flesh by then. Taako spent more time using Disguise Self, using his sister as his only mirror and Krav's delight as his only measure of worth. He had people who ere never there telling him how he could have stopped the Hunger before he even knew it existed. People telling him everything he did wrong. People starting statements with, "I wouldn't have done it that way..."

Fuckin' good for them. They didn't know what the Hunger even was before Fisher and Junior showed them everything. Now everyone had an opinion. Taako had to bite his tongue to not correct them. Bite it harder when he was so very tempted to whip them with barbed retorts like, "You can defeat the next one, then," or, "Well we didn't have your amazing expertise from the point of view as a dung carter," or, "What level are you again?"

Lup, Barry, and Krav caught the edges of it. In every inn, at every campsite. For every rant about the unadulterated ignorance. He had degrees at the most prestigious educational establishment on their entire damn homeworld, damnit. What did they fuckin' know? They had nothing. Nothing! They had their opinions and everyone knows about them, right? Opinions are like assholes. Everyone's got one and nobody reckons theirs stinks. He would then dissolve into iterations of, "Fuck them," until sleep finally claimed him.

Lup would cuss them out between signatures, keeping to _Us_ so that nobody else could understand what she was saying. Keeping a smile on his face in the bookshops and cafes where they annotated and signed every copy for every asshole who had an opinion. She was the smarter twin, and that proved it by letting the emotional steam out in small, safe doses rather than Taako's angry, explosive rants in the night. He'd rant about some of that, too. Calmed and eased by the love of his family.

Well. The family he had left.

After a month, he stopped keeping track of the towns they stopped in. Stopped asking folks' names. Stopped caring a mote for any of the multitude of faces who came and stopped listening to whatever they had to say. Started signing every book with, _You're welcome,_ and his mark.

That was why it was such a shock when he was signing in Varmvale.

"You inspired us," said the latest mark in the queue.

"Uh-huh," mumbled Taako. Wringing another _You're welcome,_ out of his fingers. Then Lup elbowed him in the ribs. Hard. He flipped to _Us. "Lulu, what the fucking hell?"_

_"Be nicer to our mother."_

Wait. What?

Taako looked up from his half-angered slouch. Holy shit, he knew those boobs. From when they were in their late seventies and she was the only one besides Monty and Kustaad and Mrs Kustaad - Tri'fel - who could tell how old they were. When he was one of the few who was completely immune to her tits.

"No fuckin' way. Mo-- I mean, La'ming?" And peeking shyly behind her... their other mom. "Mak'arune?" And further behind... so many familiar faces. Or close enough to familiar. "Monty Junior?"

"Monty the third," the Naga with the familiar top hat smiled. _"Ms._ Monty the third. You Elves never keep track of generations, do you?" Oh yeah. She had a distinctive lack of a hood.

Taako was illogically homesick. "You look just like your grandad when we were nineteen..." He was illogically happy. He turned to Lup and said, "Lulu, we've come home..."

"It's only the twentieth time I tried to tell you," she snarked. Always keeping score. "Wake up, Koko."

La'ming Ton and Mak'arune Ton - they had matching rings - were not _his_ adopted mothers, but... This looked so very familiar. There were illogical tears in his eyes. "Tell me you two stole some babies who needed a chance?"

"We found a pair of abandoned babies one fine Luume," said Mak'arune. Not _his_ Mak'arune, but so achingly like her. "They're artificers in Neverwinter."

"Well shit, I always wanted some sibs," Taako laughed. "I know you're not my mom, I left her back on my home planet, but..."

"Of course we'll adopt you too," said La'ming. "Come here and give your family a hug."

He knocked over the table on the way. Of all the people on his homeworld that he missed, these were the echoes that healed his heart the most. No more talking dust. Not now, not ever. Family all over again. That's the way he had to do things. They might not be the family he left behind, but they were willing to be his family all over again. That was how he beat so many others out for the coveted position on the Starblaster in the first place. The ability to form such bonds with people who were completely unrelated. The ability to bond with his shipmates. The ability to pull up stakes, move on, and adapt. The ability to make wherever he was and whoever he was with his home.

Taako threw away the book he'd started on, replacing it with a fresh copy. "I signed that one wrong," he said. "Lemme fix it."

He signed it, _Thank you for everything the other you did,_ and then his mark.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> Can we get Garfield interacting with the circus peeps?
> 
> [AN: We got into a discussion about La’ming and Garfield and then this happened]

[That Sexy Garfield Cosplayer has a lot to answer for]

It was the largest building in the world. The shocking part was that it was a business-place for one business. Inside was a huge warehouse that held wonders from all around the world. It promised discounts, bargains, and dreams come true if one read the marquee.

The inside seemed to be dimensionally transcendent. People from all walks of life could just come in and buy entire crate-loads of whatever they wanted.

The circus fucking loved it.

Koko couldn’t believe it. They had all kinds of magical shit just lying around in baskets, tubs, and bins, as well as sitting around on the shelves.

“I’m gonna steal one of every-fucking-thing in here,” he whispered.

“I WOULDN’T TRY THAT, SWEETHEART. THE ANTI-THEFT CURSES ARE TERRIBLE!”

The twins jumped and shrieked. Floating just behind them was the terrifying figure of a large-ish ginger Tabaxi in a moon-and-star-patterned robe. He had a nametag that introduced him to the literate as Garfield.

La’ming, still biologically compelled to care for their welfare, wrapped one up in each arm and issued a warning growl at him.

“JUST A FRIENDLY WARNING, MADAM. THE AISLES OF THE FANTASY COSTCO ARE RIDDLED WITH THEIR OWN KIND OF PERIL. WE HAVE STRICT ANTI-SHOPLIFTING WARDS AND ANY UNATTENDED CHILDREN WILL BE EMPLOYED.” After a moment’s thought, the Tabaxi added. “FOR ANY FURTHER ENQUIRIES, I SHALL BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL. HAVE A GOOD DAY.”

They hustled away from the Tabaxi, feeling like they had just escaped an eldritch horror. La’ming quickly distracted the twins with the variety of choice available to anyone with the money or the vouchers. This place had _everything_. Bags of Holding in assorted colours. Pocket tents, pocket workshops, pocket laboratories. Portable holes, portable doors, portable underground connections…

Koko fell in love with the pocket spa. Based on the same principal as the pocket tent, this one promised all one’s relaxation needs including refreshments and a golem for massages. It boasted the ability to hold and sustain two medium-sized creatures when compact and up to six when unfurled.

His for only… way more than he could afford. Ever. In his life. Even if he went straight and kept the bail fund overflowing… he’d never have one.

Koko contemplated ways he could scratch it or dirty it up so he’d get a discount without breaking it completely.

“FIND SOMETHING YOU LIKE, SWEETIE?”

“Could you not  _do_  that?”

“I ONLY KNOW ONE WAY TO APPEAR, HANDSOME. PERHAPS YOU’D LIKE TO MAKE A DEEEEEEEEAAAALLLLL…”

It was the way he was salivating on the word ‘deal’ that almost scared Koko’s pants brown. “You win the intimidation check hombre. Truth is, I ain’t got the money for this and probs never will. So unless there’s someone I could fuck for this…”

“FRATERNISING WITH THE CUSTOMERS VIOLATES COMPANY RULES, GORGEOUS.”

Oh thank the gods. “Maybe we could play a game,” he looked around. “What’s that green table for?”

“THAT’S A POOL TABLE, SON. HAVEN’T YOU EVER PLAYED POOL BEFORE?”

“No,” Koko lied. “Maybe you could show me how to play and then best out of five wins?”

He was drooling again. “AND WHAT DO  _I_  WIN WHEN YOU LOOSE, HMMMM?”

“You can gimme a haircut and keep the hair.” Roughly equivalent worth, really, and harmless enough to not cause much trouble down the line.”

*  
Two hours later, Koko caught up with his family. He had the pocket spa, Garfield’s Shoes of Floatation, and the nifty dollar-sign pendant he’d been wearing.

“Where were you?” said La’ming, who had found the costumes section. “I was starting to worry.”

Translation: She was worried and working on her last nerve trying not to outright panic.

“Playin’ some pool with the big cat,” said Koko. “Got some neat stuff.”

La’ming, wearing a really cheap imitation of Garfield’s robe over her clothes, squealed in delight and borrowed the pendant. She put on some tiger-print platforms, a pair of kitty mittens and a humorous cat mask as well. “HoW dO i LoOk, DaRlInG?” she said, mocking Garfield’s voice. “Is It WoRtH a DeEeEeEaAaAlLlL?”

She was hilarious.

Garfield was not impressed. Especially when Lulu attempted to hustle him at pool for the outfit.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> Luume’d Mak hitting on Ming. Roll your will save.
> 
> [AN: Big thanks to @dualityandsuch for getting me into the Hamilton Soundtrack which has heavily inspired parts of this effort. Also, my mind has been everywhere today, so apologies if this turns up tomorrow. I got a weird day]

The first La’ming knew about Mak’arune having a Luume episode was what she initially thought of as her babies horsing around. They were apparently playing a variant of tag with someone else in the circus camp.

They swung around her caravan to where she was busy with the laundry and cheered, “YES!” One ducked back to wave and chirp, “Yoo-hoo! Here we are! This way!” Then the other dragged the first away and up to their favourite hiding spot on the roof of the caravan.

La’ming had enough time to say, “What are you two–” before she got a far more distracting interruption.

“Babies… come ba-a-ack…” Mak’arune rounded the caravan and met eyes with La’ming. “Preeeeeettyyyyyyyy…”

La’ming knew the symptoms instantly. Flushed face. Dilated pupils. An easy, slightly drunken smile and a marginally unsteady gait. That, and Mak’arune smelled very,  _very_  nice.

Slightly worrying was the fact that she was wearing a very flattering red dress that normal-Mak’arune didn’t feel bold enough to wear. It showed off all her best aspects and put more colour into her Moon Elf pallor.

_Gods, show me how to say no to this…_

The on-again, off-again Thing between her and Mak’arune was so well known that it inspired multiple attempts to get the two to admit it, several thousand camp jokes, and at least one raunchy song with the refrain, “Waiting for the day…” Mak’arune deep in Luume might prove too much for her tentative willpower.

_I don’t know how to say no to this…_

Her eyes were deep and dark and La’ming could get lost in them if she wanted to and she smelled of crisp linens and a cool, fresh stream and that rosin she always used when she threaded her needles and…

_Oh gods, I feel so helpless…_

“Want,” cooed Mak’arune. “Want you so much. You’re so pretty. Wanna touch. Wanna hug. Wanna make feel  _nice…”_

So very tempting. La’ming forgot about the laundry. Forgot about the twins whispering with each other on the rooftop. Forgot that she was soaking wet and wearing the ugliest dress in the world. Forgot, entirely, that she wanted their eventual meeting to be something magical.

_How can I say no to this?_

Her lips were sweet, soft, and warm. Bliss and balm and comfortable - so comfortable. The soft swell of her purr kicked up as La’ming purred back and for a moment - just a moment - she nearly dove into temptation.

Then she reached up and found the pressure points that told Mak’arune’s drives to go away, that now was not the time, and an inconvenience at best.

She spasmed like she’d been hit with a bucket of cold water, then fell limp into La’ming’s arms.

“Okay, you two little shits. You’re setting up the big hammock and then we’re  _all_  minding her.”

The twins, previously anticipating some fucking closure, grumbled about it.

“Or I tell Mak’arune how you set this up so  _she_  can lecture you about it.”

_Now_ they hurried to comply.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Mak almost gets married

She told herself it was butterflies. It was natural for a bride to be nervous. She felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest as she approached the mirror.

Mak’arune didn’t like this dress, but her intended did. She thought it made her pale skin look sallow, and it showed far too much flesh. It was bedecked with too much lace and embroidery, and she was certain that the sigils on her corset meant something... icky...

But he was a good businessman, and he said she was a lady of inherent quality. It was only natural that a gentleman of good fortune and standing would be in want of a wife... and yet...

~~She’d left something behind...~~

There was something she was forgetting. Something she was sure she’d left undone. It was why he’d hired seven maidens to see to everything. To reassure her.

~~She’d heard rumours about his former brides...~~

Shoes. Stockings. Underpinnings. Overpinnings. The dress, of course, the dress.

~~It made her feel nauseated to look at it...~~

The maidens adjusted the flowers and one of them coached her in her breathing and two stood ready by her elbows in case her knees turned to jelly or she felt faint.

It’s natural. It’s only nerves. It’s perfectly--

~~It isn’t perfect! It isn’t natural! Something’s wrong! RUN!~~

Tears pricked her eyes and her breath wouldn’t slow down and her whole body shook as they opened up the door and she wanted to get away from here so badly but she promised. She promised, and she always kept her promises.

Mak couldn’t remember the event, but he said she promised, and the maidens agreed, and she’d been so scatterbrained of late, she’d forget her own hea--

~~None of her friends were here! They were invited, she’d made sure!~~

He looked resplendent in his suit. Brocade vest the colour of dried blood. Suitcoat and pants darker than a tomb. His shirt was as pale as a shroud and he--

~~\--looked worse than a corpse come for dinner...~~

\--he was smiling at the sight of her. Matching her pace as tradition decreed, surrounded by seven groomsmen who  ~~leaked dark ichor~~  matched his measured pace as his Honour Guard.

Something...  ~~was very wrong!~~  ...happened...

The violinist in the atrium changed pace to something lively and definitely not chamber music.

_Dah dum datumtum daddledumdum daddle-diddle-daddle-daddle dah-dum..._

The stained glass of the temple burst inwards  ~~but it sounded like splintering wood~~  and figures burst in from all directions and someone yelled, “Dispell magic!”

The groom before her was dressed in the same clothes, but he was barely humanoid. A beast’s skull barely wrapped in dripping flesh opened a maw full of too many teeth and roared.

The twins pulled her away from the animated corpses, Lulu still holding the violin she had used to give the signal, Koko firing Magic Missiles behind him.

“Is that La’ming swinging on a rope?” Mak’arune wondered.

“Yeah, the whole gang’s here,” said Lulu. She’d stowed her violin and had a small knife that she was using on the strings of the corset. “Gotta get this dress off you before it drains your life, babe.”

Koko had something large and voluminous. “I got mom’s muumuu for a replacement. Guaranteed unspelled.”

The corset had horrible runes on it. Vile, dark magic. So did the stitching on her dress. So did her exposed skin. She wasn’t a bride. She was a sacrifice.

Fortunately, the rest of the circus was making short work of that fiend. Good for them. Now that the spell was broken and her mind was clear, now that she was scrubbing her body clean with her own spit and tears, there was one thing she had to do.

She stepped back into the sepulchre that she had once thought was a church, raised her hand at the fiend and said, “Abra-ca-fuck you!” and cast Sacred Flame at him.

_Now_  she was free to collapse in a gibbering heap.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Ming does get married

Even the twins, fantastic at digging up dirt, couldn’t find anything wrong with Beige Blandish. No skeletons in the closet, no dark secrets. No hideous family lurking in the wings. No racism, no biases, no assumptions, no profiling, no hurtful vices.

Also, nothing interesting about him. His hobby was making miniature flowers out of pencil shavings. He coloured them with watercolours. He was a  _chartered accountant._ [1] He was perfectly  _nice._  Which was pretty much all that could be said about him.

Put together, a man like Beige Blandish was a nil-all win. Everyone agreed that the twins needed someone to temper their reckless spirits - except the twins. Having a decent male role model might even help them out a bit.

Which was why Mak’arune was crying. She told herself that it was natural to cry at weddings. People did it all the time. She could do all this, arranging the venue, the flowers, the dress... because she was very fond of Ms La’ming Ton and would do literally anything to see her happy.

Koko was ring-bearer, walking in pace beside Blandish and looking like he’d rather be spitting rats at a target than there in his powder-blue suit.

Mak’arune covered her tearful gibbering with both hands as La’ming entered. Every inch a Sea Elf. Her dress was in ocean tones with highlights of sea-foam and it looked like the tide was swelling and ebbing with her every step. Pearls and mother-of pearl bedecked her blood-red hair, her ears, her neck, her waist and her wrists. Her bouquet looked like it could have been plucked from an octopus’ garden despite coming from land-based plants.

Beside her, Lulu was in powder pink, scattering petals in a picture of grace only spoiled by the expression on her face. She, too, would much rather be spitting rats than right there and then in this circumstance.

_You can’t always get what you want..._

She kept telling herself that. She kept telling the twins that. She kept telling anyone who would listen those exact words.

_But if you try sometimes, you get what you need._

La’ming needed this. She needed stability. She needed someone staid and sensible who could balance a chequebook without thinking and be reliable and sensible and reasonable and sensible and...

Mak’arune held her breath through the reason for impediment, with the twins glaring at her and making subtle  _do something!_  expressions at her. Just for a tiny moment...

...La’ming looked over her shoulder towards her best friend.

But no words were said.

The marriage lasted four years. Four dull, boring, dependable, sensible and reliable years in which Beige Blandish was  _perfectly nice._  Very little else but nice. Even their break up was amicable and without tears. Beige Blandish remained a friend of that odd little family for the rest of his days.

La’Ming’s  _second_  marriage, on the other hand...

Mak’arune watched the woman in the mirror as Taako slotted a few final flowers and feathers into her hair. There were no tears this time. No terror, no trepidation, no uneasy creeping cold-vomit sensation crawling up her spine...

“Perfect,” Taako announced. “I couldn’t ask for a better mom.”

Mak’arune turned away from her reflection. “I look like a fashion model ready for the runway.”

“You look amazing,” he reassured. Very carefully, he smeared her lips with a single red berry. For the sweetness to come, according to Elven tradition.

The doors opened. Taako buckled on his shield and drew his sword, leaving an elbow free for her hand.

There she was. Ocean and sea-spray and pearls. Lup at her side with shield and sword as a very ferocious Honour Guard. They were only a hundred and one, the poor dears. Young enough to take their newfound adulthood tremendously seriously. The dress had sparkles of tiny diamantes on it, this time, because it was bad luck to walk down the aisle twice in exactly the same dress.

Mak’arune didn’t keep the staid and steady pace for long. Neither did La’ming. Her ocean dress became a tidal wave of hugs that met her lunar forest in a laughing crash.

The twins only slightly spoiled things with their victory dance and chants of,  _here we go, here we go, here we go..._  But everyone who loved the four of them laughed and applauded.

_This is the best thing that has ever happened to me..._

This was it. This was right. Mak’arune said the words without thinking a whit about them, and it looked like La’ming did exactly the same.

_I love you, I need you, I need it, I love... you..._

That kiss was the best one worth waiting for, and Lup showered them both with rose petals despite being too old to be the flower girl any more.

Half the circus erupted in cheers and hoots. More than half of them supplied displays of magical fireworks in celebration.

This one? This one was going to stick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This is not to say that accountantcy is a position naturally lending a worker in it dull and uninteresting. It is to say that it takes a special kind of person to be very interested in tax law throughout history. Or at all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Circus parents scare off an asshole who wants to date one of the twins

There was something odd about Felman Hollo. Mak’arune couldn’t quite put her finger on it for some time. Then she noticed the man making sweet with Lulu just a minute after he’d smooched Koko farewell.

She dithered about it, wondering if it was better that he made the twins happy, or if he didn’t know he was talking to twins, or... or if he was playing with them both. That was the thing that got her confronting him about his life choices.

“I certainly hope you’re not taking any advantages, Master Hollo,” she began.

“Mister,” he corrected, signalling himself as a man of age making sweet with underage kids. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The twins have been through enough in their lives,” she said, giving him the benefit of the doubt for now. “They don’t need a heartbreak before they come of age.” There. That should be enough information for the intelligent sort.

His forged picture of innocence was completely missed by Mak’arune’s Insight Check. “Twins? I had no  _idea_  there were  _twins..._  How do you tell them apart?”

Not a word about the maturity gap... Odd. Perhaps he was tackling one problem at the time, though something was amiss about his priorities. “You’ve spent enough time looking into their eyes, I would think.”

He laughed, “More like staring at their assets,” he laughed. “Don’t pretend you haven’t. They’re both gorgeous.”

Euw. Gross. “Do us all a favour and let them down gently. You’ve plainly made a mistake in assuming they’re adults and--”

“There’s no mistake in aiming to be their first,” he said. “It’s an experience they’ll remember for the rest of their lives...”

Double gross! At this point, Mr Pithon, La’ming, and several other circus people stepped out from their places amongst the scenery. Mr Pithon loomed to slightly over eight feet tall while the others cracked their knuckles and made ready with improvised weapons.

Mr Kustaad Paafae made a show of his Orb of Recall. “...no mistake in aiming to be their first,” said the tiny image of Felman Hollo within it. “It’s an experience they’ll remember...” he shut it off.

La’ming had her wand out. “Now before you claim this was all a joke... I cast Zone of Truth!” She actually cast Prestidigitation, since she didn’t have that cantrip, but Hollo would experience a tingle as the sparks flew over him.

He didn’t run an Insight Check. “You want the truth? They look like some pretty sweet ass. I’m gonna be the first one they have and take ‘em for everything they can give, and you can’t stop me!” He pulled out a medallion. “Faerun Intelligence Bureau. I tell the Watch what to do.”

There was a moment of intense silence.

“Not when there’s clear evidence of misconduct,” said La’ming, gesturing to the Orb. “Attacking you might be illegal, but filming you on duty isn’t. Neither is showing local authorities the footage.”

“I can have it transcribed to a scroll in a jiffy,” said Mr Paafae. “My wife has Duplicate. I’m sure you know what that means.”

“I can pay you...”

“Never enough,” said Borstok. “Never. Ever. Enough.”

Mak’arune remembered that she had Shocking Touch, and let sparks of lightning play between her fingertips as a warning.

Hollo ran. He did not return.

Mr Pithon relaxed down to a more comfortable six feet in height. “Miss Mak’arune? Ms Ton? I trust you know this means you’re on mop-up duty.”

“We were going to do it anyway,” said La’ming. “They’re my babies.”

“And I’m rather fond of them,” added Mak’arune. The twins would realise in maybe three more days. Plenty enough time to seed their love-addled minds with hints of the bad news.

Maybe even get them to realise they’d nearly been had.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Circus twins get separated and angst ensues. Moms try to comfort them.

They’d only been passing through. The town was large enough for an overnight stay, but not big enough to fund a week’s performance. Those who had more portable acts were free to gather what coin they had as the wagons trundled through. Which was why the twins were away from each other when the fire happened.

Lulu didn’t do it, for the record. The old tinker Mad Darmigan made a fatal and effective mistake with his collection of black powder. After that, all the other fireworks in his workshop made everything more complicated for everyone else.

La’ming left the caravan, taking one of the horses, riding pell-mell for where she knew Koko was cooking up a storm from whatever the crowds had to offer. Dry thatch and crumbling wattle-and-daub caught like tinder, and it was an inferno by the time she leaned in the saddle to scoop up Koko in one arm.

She tried to find Lulu. She really did.

The fires were too hot. Upper stories were falling into the streets. The only choice was to flee. Save what she could. La’ming kept a guarding arm around Koko’s eyes and let the horse run until it could run no more.

“Lulu? Where’s Lulu?”

She stood in the saddle, trying to find any sign of life in the inferno that had once been a sleepy little mountain town. Trying to see any activity at all in any of the multiple paths out of that town.

She could only see fire, but shielded her heart-son’s eyes anyway.

Despite his ninety-some years, he was starting to cry. “Where’s Lulu? You haven’t said. Where’s Lulu? Is she okay?”

She sat back down and held him close. “I can’t see her. We know where the circus was headed, though. We can make our way there. We’ll know then.”

He tried to put on a brave face. “Well shit. We better get there before Lulu burns it down as we–” his voice cracked. Stopped working.

La’ming let him be weak. She could be strong for him tonight. She could keep the horse walking tonight. They could sleep and rest tomorrow. Pick up all their shattered pieces then.

*

Someone scooped her out of the market square on one of the circus draught horses. Indeed, the poor creature was still dragging their caravan behind it. Mak’arune was at the reins, urging the massive beast on.

Lulu, now sprawled across her lap, didn’t even have time to complain before whistling bursts of colour ignited the surrounding buildings and turned the whole street into the Plane of Fire. She untangled herself quick. “KOKO! Mak’arune, we gotta find my bro!”

Mak’arune held her down with Bigby’s Hand. “I’m looking for him, love, but we’re getting out of here on the way. I’m sorry. There’s no time.”

A burning piece of debris spurred on the horse where the reins would not. pitching them both back in the seat.

There was no sign of Koko anywhere. Just lots of people in a panic.

They were headed to the ford, likely to splash up water and put out any cinders. “No, wait, the ford’s flood–”

Mak’arune wasn’t listening and neither was the horse. They nearly got washed downstream from the rushing water and then, because the horse was still in a panic, nearly tipped off the side of several cliffside curves.

Finally, a combination of exhaustion and decent brakes got them slowed to a walk.

Lulu was up on top of the caravan, shouting for her brother in instants. Smoke had made her voice rough, and she couldn’t call for him more than a few times. The caravan came to a halt in a green field, and Mak’arune clambered up to hold her.

She hadn’t even been aware she was crying until Mak’arune had her in a soothing grasp. Her knees went out and she felt weaker than ever.

“We’ll find him. If we don’t, we’ll find out what happened.”

“I didn’t do it,” she found herself sobbing. “I was just playing music…”

“I know, I know,” Mak’arune cooed. “Ssh… I know, I know.”

“I’m supposed t’ look after ‘im… Thought ‘e’d be okay…”

“I know. We all did. You two are almost adults…” she didn’t say,  _you keep telling us._  Tonight was not a night for the blame game. “We’ll find him when we find the rest of the circus. It’s going to be okay.”

Lulu didn’t want to run an Insight Check that, even though she could hear how badly Mak’arune was at lying. Just for tonight. Let lies be truth. Let the strong be weak.

Tomorrow… Tomorrow, they could start over. Tomorrow, they could pick up the pieces. Tomorrow… she could look for the other half of her heart.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?” - Monty's Circus AU

La’ming knew something was up when she spotted Koko returning to camp via one of the goat-trails less travelled. Even at a distance, her Elf eyes could see he wasn’t in the greatest shape. Half his braids had come loose and into frizz-balls, making him look like an asymmetrical poodle. The semi-fancy clothes he’d worn out for an evening’s carouse was askew at best and used for improvised medical aid at worst.

He was using his best shirt as a sling.

La’ming gathered some of her better healing herbs and simples as she kept an eye on Koko’s progress. He was a proud kid. He’d only accept help dragging his ass home if he couldn’t do it himself. Thank the gods that Lulu was off on a different mission in a different place with Mak’arune to keep her from setting the entire city on fire.

Next was pretending not to be ready for all of this shit and surprised by his attempted stealthy approach. Late eighties-age Elves were all the same. Ego, ego, ego.

She dropped her pretense at mending when he came into the circle of light cast by her lantern. “Koko! I thought you were out having a night off. Are you hurt?”

He rolled a one on his deception check, not quite straightening up and pretending this was a new look. “No,” he said. “I’m fine...” He attempted to stride and came up short, stifling a grunt of pain.

She couldn’t let this pass. One of her babies was hurting. She got up and cupped his face in her hands Gently, of course. “So why are there bruises all over your face?”

Now his trembling ears drooped. Now he let himself shake a little more. Now he let on that he wasn’t as fighting fine as he was pretending. Yet he still had to fake at being a big man. “Little disagreement. Nothing to be fussed over.”

She scooped him up and let him sit on the step, getting some simples and salves that she ‘just happened’ to have ready on the little shelves by the door. Bandages. Lint. Splints. Enough to hold him until the camp Cleric came back from doing  _their_  thing. 

“So what was the disagreement, then?”

“I told a dude he was pretty cute and I was available if he wanted and he told me he wasn’t into dudes. With his fists. And five of his friends.”

“Oooch. Yeah, that’d do it.”

“Mmmh.”

She palpated the arm. Yeah. That was a fracture. Not a bad break that had to be reset, thank the gods. Salve. Splint. Winding bandages around his arm. Tight enough to secure but not too tight. “I’m guessing there was some pretty strenuous debate.”

“I would’a had ‘em if that sixth guy hadn’t stepped in with a fucking chair.”

Ow. The desire for vengeance was rising. She’d have to settle for bilking them for everything they had. Later. The fight now was to not cry. Proper sling. See to the cuts and bruises and clean him up in the process. “Then they showed you where they thought you’d have a better time.”

“Pigsty. Yeah. Good thing I bounce, huh?”

She couldn’t take it any more. She dragged him into his arms and wept into his shoulder. “Don’t scare your mom like that, okay? Get out first thing, then see about settling your opinions at a safe distance.”

Slightly whining, “Aw, mo-o-om... it wasn’t  _that_  bad...”

“You got hurt,” she sniffled. “Yes it was.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anenchantedloom asked:
> 
> Out of curiosity: Barry Bluejeans in the Monty Pithon 'verse?

Taako had taken the flier off of the dweeb because it was more or less a professional exchange. He, too, had been handing out fliers for Monty Pithon’s Amazing Circus and they both promised to see what the other’s flier was about. You know, the usual horseshit.

Except this dude actually turned  _up._  In the actual midway while he was doing the lunch rush and turning it into an instructional show at the same time. Lup was down with the local crud, so he had to go solo this time.

“And that’s the chicken bouillabaisse,” he smoothed, ladling out small portions of it to the audience thanks to one of the circus brats. Anyone who actually worked in the pandemonium of the circus would stop by for whatever they wanted, but the people watching him had to add an offering to the box before they got theirs.

Bluejeans dude added a silver to the pot and, after taking a few bites, called the kid with the box  _back_  to add a couple of gold. Nice guy. This meant, of course, that Taako had to go to whatever  _his_  shindig was. Scouting forum for something called Ip Re.

He was only a hundred and sixteen. Barely an adult by Elven standards, so he showed it to his moms and sickened sister. A little of his legendary ginger garlic chicken soup saw her over the crud enough to come and attend with him.

_My gods… it’s full of nerds…_

Lup was still a little under the weather despite his soup, and he needed to boost her spirits. So he kept up the acerbic comments in her ear about the nerds, geeks, and dweebs that took turns up on the podium. Interesting stuff. This super-nerd called Hallwinter insisted that there was more than one planar system, and was busy devising a method of departing one planar system to investigate another.

Lup was coming up with some interesting questions about it and jotting them down. Taako kept his questions in his head. The ones that Lup didn’t think of, anyway.

There was a queue of people who wanted to ask nerdy questions. Some of them also bought books thick enough to be fucking weapons.

As they approached the desk where Professor Hallwinter was signing and answering queries, it was none other than Bluejeans man himself! He leaned over to his sister and said, “Nerd alert,” a little too loudly.

It was classic. He looked over their way, did a double-take, took off his glasses and cleaned them, and looked again.

Then it was their turn.

“He– Yo– Wha– I– There’s two of you? I mean, we were looking for a cook for the eventual mission, but… twins would solve a lot of the bond engine issues. Hi. Sildar Hallwinter. Professor.”

Lup had recovered her edge. Taako could tell by the way she launched right into their Bit without turning a hair. “Wow. So… you think all Elves look alike, then?”

“That’s a bit speciesist,” said Taako. “And listen to him presuming we’re twins.”

“We are totally different people,” said Lup. “Next thing you know, he won’t be able to tell us apart despite the  _obvious_  differences.”

He was stammering so fast that it almost made a word. “Ah-er-ab-u-da-er-ih-tha-oh-de-ur…” He was turning so red it was a miracle he didn’t bust a vessel somewhere.

Lup burst out laughing, and Taako followed. “We’re pulling your leg, professor. Of fucking course we’re twins. Hi. Call me Lup. And this is my dumb baby brother…”

“Taako,” said Taako. “From Tre Llew-Ddion.”

It was a half-hour of interesting questions, followed by being loaded up with offers to further their education at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. The very young Professor Hallwinter thought they could gain some diplomas - after a few catch-up courses that they’d obviously sail through.

In spite of all evidence to the contrary, he thought they were both very brilliant and would be shining stars at the Institute. “Now I  _know_  he’s trying to sell something,” Taako joked on their way back to camp. “You and I both know I’m as dumb as a bag of rocks.”

“Let’s humour him,” said Lup. “If nothing else, we can be cooks  _and_  get a proper education.” She had her wicked smirk back, too. “Besides, he looks like he’d be fun to play with.”

“Play gentle,” Taako advised. “Humanmen are kind’a fragile.”

If he only knew then what he’d know in less than a century…


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> InFluxxx on Chapter 28:  
> A friend recommended your work to me and I’m starting backwards but I love this! Was Ming in a live show? Either way can we see Ming go after the people who hurt Koko? Lulu can join in too.

Clerics had healed Koko up in a trice, once they returned to the circus, but the young Elf remained under a metaphorical cloud of doom. When he wasn't on the stage or in the chuck wagon doing his cooking show, then he was skulking and sulking around in the family caravan, allegedly studying, but actually moping.

La'ming pulled herself out of the mermaid tank to see Lulu waiting on the platform she usually used to don and doff her artificial mermaid tail. Sea Elves like herself had a natural Water Breathing ability that proved useful in acts like hers. Most fake mermaids had to use a spell slot on that sort of thing, when the circus or freak show could afford to do it at all. Lulu did not look like the happiest person in the planar system.

"Koko's never like this," she said by way of a how-de-do, helping her adopted mother out of the water, and then out of her tail. "I think they did more to him than beat him up."

La'ming wring her hair out and put it up in a towel before scrubbing water off herself with the other one. "You know what the boss says about extracting revenge," she said.

"Don't get caught," said Lulu.

"He also said it isn't a good look." Dry enough, she slipped into her robe and made her way down the little ladder. "So... what did you have planned?"

Lulu grinned. "Oh, I was thinking a little bit of Revenge of the Dead mixed up with Wrath of the Gods..."

La'ming boggled at her. "You are downright evil, some times."

"That's what you love about me."

* * *

 

The six tough boys laughed as they exited the bar, all rolling dex saves to help keep each other on their feet. They were having a good night.

That was about to change.

A floating figure in what had once been nice clothing stood in the middle of the street. There were empty hollows where there once had been eyes, and dark ichor stained where they'd injured the Elven lad just a few nights ago. An eldritch wind whipped up his cloak and hair. A wind that didn't touch the boys. Just like the light only touched the ghostly figure.

A bony hand pointed a finger at them.

_"Murderrrr..."_  said an empty voice. The figure's lips did not move.

"Wait no, we didn't kill you!"

"We just bashed you up."

_"Murrrrderrrrr..."_

"The pigs. We didn't make sure he got out from the pigs!"

"Oh shit."

They turned to flee, only to encounter the very embodiment of the Goddess of Justice with her two-edged sword. "Beware, thou who woulds't do evil unto the innocent. My wrath is swift, and my blade is sharp!"

Of course they freaked and ran straight for the local watch as a very disguised Lulu and La'ming pursued them halfway there. La'ming was the one to cast Invisibility on them both so they could listen in to the panicked confession of grievous bodily harm and attempted murder.

Lulu made quite the spectre of death, thanks to a little stage magic. Just like La'ming made an excellent fake goddess. Once some degree of justice was secured, they returned to the circus to tell the entire story to Koko.

* * *

 

There were six of them in the stocks, in the town square. There until the Watch sorted out what their sentence should be. Koko cruised past, looking resplendent in his high-wire costume. In the company of a local Watchman.

"Yup. Those were the dudes who were real rude about turning me down," he said. "They broke my arm. They could'a ruined my livelihood if they didn't succeed in killing me via pig."

One of the less intelligent ones burst out, "You're dead! You're supposed to be dead! We killed you!"

Koko said, "Little misguided on the aim there, m'fella. I got outta the damn pigsty. Nice attempted murder though, I nearly fell for the entire thing." He leaned down close to the one he'd made a kind offer to. "Next time, just say 'no thanks' m'kay? I'm not like you. I know a 'no' is a 'no', hombre." He turned to the Watchmen. "Thanks muchly, and -ah- make sure you check their packs and bedrooms for a little of the old sleepy dust if you know what I mean. First thing he and his chucklefuck friends did was accuse me of doping his ale."

The horrified look on their faces was worth more than any gold Koko could have earned in his entire life.

"Ta-ta-a-a..." Koko waved them goodbye and almost floated all the way back to camp. He had the best family in the entire fucking planar system, that they'd do this for him. He owed them the best dinners he could cobble together for, like, a month.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revolvingidentitty on Chapter 28:  
> I love seeing the twins call La Ming "mom, " they've come so far under her care! Can we see the first time they called her that to her face (one twin or both)?

It may be a hell of a thing to wake up as a sudden mother to grown-ass twins, but it was also a hell of a thing to face a new day with a previously unnecessary mother. Koko knew better than to try and wriggle free of an Elf deep in Luume. La'ming Ton, circus performer primarily in the Mermaid Act, would henceforth be biologically compelled to look after him and his sister Lulu.

He hadn't had a mother since he was twelve.  _They_  hadn't had a mother since they were twelve. They'd spent sixty years relying primarily on themselves with the occasional intervention from the kindness of strangers. Not that they could trust in the latter. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with an adopted parental figure. Especially not one who was compelled to mother him.

What kind of mother would she even be anyway?

* * *

 

They'd stayed in separate caravans for half a year, but this was the first time he knew about her sneaking over in the middle of the night. It was the music that clued him in. Waking up, sodden in fear sweat, from a nightmare that was already fading out of his memory. There was a waning flicker of the grey concrete walls of St Vingo's before reality restored itself thanks to Lulu's snoring and the melody from the flute.

Koko slid into a robe and stumbled over to the door. He pulled the top half open to find... "La'ming? The fuck?"

She stopped playing, but she chose to whisper. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you. I'm so sorry."

"You're good, I woke me," he yawned and sighed. "Have you been playing for us ever since--?"

"Ever since I went through Luume. Yeah. I know you two have issues with resting properly. You don't meditate. Sometimes, I think you can't meditate. I'm... worried."

Koko had to admit she had a point. "Yeah, meditation leaves us vulnerable and we... we don't like bein' vulnerable. You're... really out here every night?"

"I have an easier time meditating for four hours than you do," she said. "I'm a little late getting going in the morning, but with me, it's background noise."

Koko said, "I think I might have an easier time meditating from now on," he said. He dared pat her shoulder. "Thanks, mom."

He was too tired to bother listening for her tiny little squeal of joy.

* * *

 

Lulu was better at going along with things than Koko was. She sort of accepted La'ming as a distant wine aunt turned mother and didn't much bristle against her attentions. For instance, she let La'ming dress her hair. She did not, however, let La'ming dress her body.

"Hold it right there, young lady!"

_Aw shit..._  "Yeah, what?"

"Are you going out to the town dressed like that?"

"No, I was headed for their red light district," she said, oozing sarcasm. "I'm gonna turn some tricks for the golds."

La'ming was not amused. "Well, if that's your goal, target achieved," she said. "There's scumbags out there who think they're allowed to grab whatever they see, and you got  _loads_  on display."

"You can talk, I can see the birthmark on your left tit through that top!"

_"I'm_  not planning on going out!"

"Everyone and their kid brother's dog can see your business when they pass by the camp."

"Not where I keep my caravan. You're putting some proper clothes on before you leave this camp,  _miss."_

Lulu threw up her hands. "Gods, mom, get off my fuckin' case!"

They both gasped at once. One with the realisation of what she'd just said and the other with barely-concealed joy.

"...you called me 'mom'..."

Lulu sighed and started trudging back to her caravan. "Sure. Yeah I did."

"Where are you going now?"

"I'm putting on a fuckin' muumuu!"


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch asked:
> 
> GREG GRIMALDES VS MING

Her babies were off researching very clever stuff over at IPRE, competing with other people in the IPRE for some posting on a two-month mission into the greater beyond. La’ming wished them luck. They needed a good adventure on their own. Her concern was with one of their past misadventures.

One of Lup’s past misadventures named Greg Grimaldis. He was one of the rare few scum-sucking user assholes who had successfully passed all their paranoid inspections to later betray the whole family.

On the surface, it was a simple matter of fifteen dollars. Not only was it the principal of the thing, but it was also one of Lup’s  _special_  fifteen dollar bills. The one success she’d needed to fund the thinnest of their college years. It  _should_  have gone back to La’ming and Mak’arune, but Greg Grimaldis had left her with a very clever fake.

He was now using the original to fund his entrepreneurial ventures, having dropped out of the IPRE the second he got what he was  _really_  after. And here she’d been thinking he was simply out to procure sex. Now she was thinking of ways to get past Grimaldis’ increasingly convoluted security measures.

Fifteen dollars a day, every day, added up to quite the tidy fortune.

She did not intend for it to add up for him for very much longer.

A combination of clever spellwork and superior stealth got her into his offices, and ransacking them for the bill proved fruitless.

“You really think I’d leave it somewhere like a doofus?” he said.

La’ming stood from her former, covert huddle. “Grimaldis.”

“Ton,” he smirked in that oily way she had hated from day one. “Small surprise I’d find you in here. Looking for something... special.”

“You have something that isn’t yours. I’m simply retrieving it for the person you stole it from.”

“Prove its hers and I report her for forgery. She’ll get kicked out of that fancy-schmancy gig they got going. Think she’d love you after that?”

He had to have it on his person. Somewhere. Good thing Taako had taught her how to rob someone blind without them knowing it. La’ming turned on the charm. Smiling seductively. Edging closer.

“Now, now, Mr Grimaldis... can I call you Greg?” she didn’t wait for permission. “Greg... we’re both beings of the world. I’m certain we can come to... some form of understanding.”

He grinned and moved beyond her reach. “Nice try, but you told me to fuck off in no uncertain terms at every given opportunity. I don’t think you’d betray your little wife like that. She is prone to cry.”

_Damnit..._  La’ming sighed. “You should also know that this isn’t over. You’ve angered a very talented family. We’ll get that fifteen dollars away from you one way or another.”

“Any more threats, Mrs Ton, and I might have to call in my boys,” he cooed.

She left while things were still civil.

* * *

 

Of all the things she regretted, La’ming regretted not being able to tell the twins about their new brother. He’d been adopted at age seven in another fit of Luume and didn’t seem to mind having two Elven moms doting on his general welfare.

They taught him everything he needed to know.

Low cunning, high strategies, and being able to play the fool at a virtuoso level. Terry was almost as good as the twins and their mothers put together. He’d even counted on his older sister to figure out a way to try and procure it herself.

_Sorry, Lulu. The circus needs that fifteen dollars more than you need to destroy it._

La’ming waited, watching what she could from hacks she had made in the Grimaldis Casino security systems. Her twins were very good at this, avoiding many pitfalls along the way. They were so close to taking it with them...

Then everything cut off. A pre-recorded image of Old Blue-Eyes was glaring in her general direction.

“Of course you’re up to something, La’ming Ton,” he said. “Try it again and I’ll destroy everything you ever loved. Starting with Turkey Boy.”

He knew!

“Yeah, I know he’s yours. The interesting thing is going to be whether I fire him or kill him. Guess we’ll see how much a rich man can get away with murder.”

* * *

 

Terry kept the bill safe and himself financed all the way to Varmvale, where a neat little cottage rested by a barn made to shelter a moderately-sized traveller's caravan. The original note was safely hidden and he had an easy way to tell the original from the dupicates that sprang forth once a day.

His step was lighter on the way to that little cottage. His smile wider as he walked up the path towards the pretty little gate and the neat little fence. "Mo-oms... I'm ho-o-ome!" 

Two Elven figures, one blue, and one pale, rushed towards him from their former places in maintaining and keeping their winter home. One was half-Elven, but that didn't matter when family was on the table. They scooped Terry up in their arms and covered him in kisses and there was more than one pair of eyes that got a little moist. 

"Any trouble?" said the blue one, known to the world as La'Ming Ton, Fushi Mermaid. 

"You were right about the twins turning up," said Terry, letting Mak'arune Ton add a bobble hat to his ensemble. "Mom, it isn't that cold. Give over..."

"You need to stay warm, baby. Did they make more trouble for you?" 

"No, your scrying was right on the button. I gave them the wand and they bought it hook, line and sinker. I could tell Lup was gonna be pissed, though." 

"She'll get over it. How'd they get back into this dimension? I never saw that part." 

"Special belts. Which means we might be in for trouble when they recharge." 

La'ming grinned. "I think they'll forgive us. Meanwhile, it can help fill out the Bail Fund." 

Terry let himself inside to warm by the fire and started to relax after he handed over the fateful bill. "Grimaldis was a piece of work, though. I almost didn't make it in."

"Yeah. We tried to warn your sister, but..." Mak'arune shrugged. "You just can't warn people sometimes."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QueenKara671 on Chapter 58:  
> Hi, I was wondering if you could write a chapter where Taako and Lup go to check up on their moms (in the Montgomery Within verse) and find out about them having Terry steal the fifteen dollar bill? I want to see their reactions.  
> Thanks!

"These ones should be good for a whole day," said Barry. The belts didn't look much different from the hour-long 'alpha version', but Taako was inclined to trust his nerdy brothere-in-law.

"Nifty," said Taako. "What's the heist?"

"No heist, sweetie," said Lup. "We should really introduce our snuggle-buddies to the family."

Realisation hit like a truck. "Oh snap. We're introducing Barold and Krav to our moms? Are they even ready?"

"They better fuckin' be," said Lup.

Taako scurried for the room, looking for his particular sweetheart. "Krav! Bone daddy! HEY, SALT!"

* * *

 

"Okay. So these ones work on deep bonds," Barry instructed. "We all hold hands. Kravitz? You and I focus on our love for the twins. Lup and Taako will be focussing on their parentals. It should take us to the safest open space near wherever they are in their reality.

There was...

...a feeling like falling...

...wind without air...

...the unpleasant sensation of being turned sideways-out...

Then ground under his feet and a residual dizziness that made him cling tighter to Taako.

"Easy, now," Taako soothed. "Deep breaths, bone daddy. You got this."

"I'm... alive? That usually takes hours..."

"This dimension's Raven Queen's a little more benevolent than ours," said Lup. "Just lean if you need to lean, bossman."

"Aw dunk. There's our moms' house."

It was a cottage that they wintered in when Montgomery's Amazing Circus was not on the road. The closest thing the twins had ever had to a home since they were twelve. It was a picturebook house. With floral arches and a thatched roof and pretty painted shutters guarding the windowpanes. Abundant herbs and vegetables grew in neat little rows. One would easily expect Baba Yaga to live there, or a fairy godmother in disguise. Or an enchanted princess or a wizard with a destiny to deliver. Certainly not the gangly, unassuming character who emerged from the slightly sunken door.

The twins recognised him instantly.  _"Terry?"_

Terry said, "Oh shit," and dashed back inside.

'WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR MOMS, TERRY!"

They had just enough time to yell that before two Elven figures rushed out into the open. One full-blood Sea Elf and a half-Human Moon Elf. Both with aprons on, both with hands upraised and yelling, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

The smaller half-Elf put herself in front of everyone else in the doorway of the cottage, only to have herself body lifted out of harms' way by the Sea Elf, who shrieked, "MY BABIES!"

The twins, now eager to greet these women, said, "Mom!" and rushed into her arms. They soon absorbed the half-Elf when she joined the family cluster. There was definitely some competition purring.

Kravitz hung back with Barry and politely waited for introductions to happen. These women had to have adopted Lup and Taako at some point, and Luume may have been involved[1], but they were definitely family and it didn't matter that none of them were related.

The Sea Elf was 'mom', and her half-Elf spouse was 'momma' according to the twins, and after a handful of minutes' worth of embracing, they were introduced as La'ming Ton and Makarune, respectively.

"I'm so glad you're okay," sighed Taako. "We thought that asshole Terry had done something to you."

Makarune said, "That's your baby brother you're insulting, Koko."

"WHAT?"

Of course it turned into a family dinner. Mothers and twins attempting to cook together in a kitchen made for a maximum of two people. Taako would, and did, call it a 'two ass kitchen'. They were spending most of the cooking session dodging out of everyone else's way and Terry, apparently used to something similar, was passing in fresh herbs and ingredients through a convenient window.

"So..." said Lup. "When the fuck did this happen?"

Makarune laughed. "When Jeffandrew put the universes back together, he gave them all the ten years' difference from your reset. At least, that's how I understand things."

"We didn't exactly live them," said La'ming. "We  _experienced_ them, but... it's like a dream. Sort of. Some silly fantasy, for sure."

"But real," said Terry in the window. "Very real. I was twelve when the Hunger hit. Running away from home and then... I dreamed about finding the circus and... your moms. Our moms."

"Luume," Makarune shrugged. "What are you gonna do?"

"So he got the fifteen dollar bill from Greg for you?" Taako guessed. "Or for Monty?"

"For us, originally," said La'ming.

"It wasn't his to start with," added Makarune. "We know you made it for college and a little financial security in Neverwinter."

"It was never meant to be exploited like he did," said La'ming. "And anyway, we gave it to Monty."

"The bail fund always needs money," the entire family chorused.

Kravitz had to laugh at that. So did Barry. They'd both heard a  _lot_ of Circus stories.

"Hey, are we on Monty Three still? Or is it Monty Four?"

"Monty Four. I swear we make them age faster, the poor dears."

Dinner, by comparison, was stilted and awkward. Seven people sitting around a tiny table more suited to six, awkwardly eating dinner and attempting to find something nice to talk about.

"Interesting heist technique you got there, baby bro," said Lup. "Let the geniuses do all the hard work and let them send the macguffin straight to you."

"Looking like an incompetent employee was an especially nice touch," said Taako. "You had us completely fooled."

It was the fact that they sounded approving that threw Terry, Barry, and Kravitz for a loop.

"You did trust every word outta my mouth," said Terry, vaguely defensively. "An arcana check here, an insight check there. You could'a avoided a whole bunch of embarrassment."

There was an extended silence as the siblings glared at each other over the bowls of vegetables.

Then uproarious laughter from all three of them.

"Yup! He's our brother," said Taako. "Always shift the blame to the rube!"

"You sure got us," cheered Lup. She mock-punched La'ming. "You taught the  _shit_ outta this boy."

"Anyway, meet the brothers-in-law. Barold J. Bluejeans is the nerd marrying our sister."

"Hey," said Barry, waving.

"Kravitz, over there, is the nerd marrying our brother."

"Greetings."

The twins leaned forward, over their plates, casting a set of evaluating gazes over their new sibling. "So," they chorused. "Anyone special in your life, Terry?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] It was definitely involved.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Can we get Circus! Mak and twins bonding?

****

Another village, another attempt at keeping the Bail Fund intact for another fortnight. This time, at least, La’ming Ton was there to help keep the twins in rein.

Allegedly.

“I’ll have your strongest ale,” said Koko.

“He’s having a mild cider shandy[1],” said La’ming. She wheeled to face Lulu, “And so are you, young miss.”

Lulu switched to Street Elven,  _“These are Humanmen, they can’t possibly know.”_

“Elves already have a reputation for being duplicitous, deceptive lawbreakers. The last thing we need to enforce that reputation. So you two  _under-age_  Elves are drinking shandies. End of.”

The twins grumbled, but suffered to drink shandies.

Raucous laughter erupted from a card table across the inn.

“That’s what I like to see,” roared the most obnoxious one. “Tame Elves.”

One of his lieutenants laughed even louder and said, “Rather see ‘em hangin’ in a ‘pothecary to dry!”

“Hey, hey. Careful. They can hear us,” said another lieutenant. “With ears like that, they can hear your hand!”

The twins were growling under their breaths. La’ming, with her ears docked and her disguise on, rested a hand on one each of theirs.  _“Okay,”_  she said in Street Elven,  _“Now is the time we run the kind of scam where we let them walk home in their breechclouts.”_

The twins turned to assess the quartet of boozy card players.  _“We have three... We could run the Winterheim Two-step.”_

_“I was thinking of the Passholdt Handshake.”  
_

_“How about somewhere in-between? The Goldcliff Warm Welcome.”  
_

The twins grinned like sharks.  _“Goldcliff. I like it.”_

La’ming sighed.  _“I don’t know whether it’s more disturbing that I know what all those are... or that you do.”_

The game, known to hustlers as the Goldcliff Warm Welcome, was also known as  _skin the guys who are going to learn better._  It began with La’ming airing a little more cleavage and hiking up more than a mere corner of her skirt.

The twins insisted on speaking only in Gutter Elven, a language that La’ming insisted was their twin talk. She also gave them the story that the twins were found wild and didn’t understand Common. A ‘fact’ that emboldened the Humanman quartet to be louder and more boisterous than they had been before.

It took only a few hours to rid them of every coin they had on them, all their jewelry, every single weapon in their possession, and most of their clothing. They were also getting the message but, as Koko and Lulu gathered up the spoils, Koko had to twist the knife.

“Just so you know,” he said to their astonished and gaping faces. “It’s really bad luck to insult an Elf.”

La’ming hurried them out of there and back to the safety of the Circus campgrounds. Haul and all. There, she made the twins vow that they wouldn’t leave the grounds until the Circus left with them.

Three weeks later, when they left for another town, La’ming noticed that her savings jar was a lot more full than she knew it had been a mere week ago. Of course she confronted her adopted kids the instant she found it.

“Did you two have anything to do with the extra coin in my restoration fund?”

“Depends,” said Koko. “Are you mad about it?”

Lulu elbowed him. Hissed a stop-talking noise with some urgency.

La’ming took a breath. Parenting these two was a constant negotiation. “I’d only be mad if you took any risks. Like going into the town when I told you it was dangerous. Especially going into the town without an escort to make sure you’re,”  _not arrested,_  “safe.”

“We never left the circus grounds,” said Lulu truthfully.

“We gave all that stuff we skinned off’a those dudes to Monty so he could hock ‘em for us,” added Koko. “And we put all of it into your jar.”

“No Elf should have their ears docked,” said Lulu. “It’s painful and limits expression and...” her voice fell to a mumble, “...’n’ I read of how it can cause problems in y’r dome piece...”

They could have blown all that coin on fashion, luxuries, ingredients, or even treats for themselves. They could have wasted it on potions and pipeweed. “You... really put all that profit into my restoration fund?”

The twins looked at each other, and joined hands. “Every last copper,” they said together.

She swept them up in her arms and smooched the heck out of their adorable little faces. “Thank you, thank you. I’ve got the best babies in the world.”

“Stop it...” whined Koko without much conviction.

“You’re embarrassing," added Lulu without any honesty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Shandy: mixing small amounts of alcohol with large amounts of lemonade or sweetened soda water.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Can we also get an adult’s night out at the circus? Monty, Kustaad, Ming, etc hitting the town

Sometimes... it’s good to get away from the kids. Kustaad, La’ming Ton, Mak’arune, and Montgomery Pithon were glad enough to leave the twins with Kri with Tri’fel and Exandria as the grownups took a break from their combined shenanigans in the Varmvale Inn.

Montgomery was enjoying things slightly less, since he was used to parenting two of the remaining three whilst they were on the road. It took him a good percentage of the evening to get drunk enough to relax.

Kustaad, on the other hand, was well into his cups. It took a lot to get an Elf drunk, and the Varmvale ale was thick and strong and potent as hell. “Tha’ li’l Koko,” he rambled. “He’s goin’ be trouble.”

“I know he’s a rough diamond,” said Mak’arune, who could not hold her ale. “But he’s... he’s real sweet. Th’ poor boy’s been through lots... Lots ‘n’ lots ‘n’ lots ‘n’ lots....”

La’ming took the tankard out of Mak’arune’s fingers. “I’m pretty sure you’ve had enough, there, dear.”

“I think,” said Kustaad. “I think...  _I_  think... I think I’m starting to think... That poor li’l boy might...  _just_  be sweet on me a li’l.”

Montgomery was glad he couldn’t roll his eyes. Everyone in the circus knew that Koko was fully occupied with pining for Kustaad. Happily married Kustaad. Old enough to literally be his father Kustaad. Also ripped, more than a little bit of a nerd, and thoroughly beautiful even for an Elf.

“I think you might be right,” he announced. “You’re kind of his type.”

“I’m also... approaching... Threehunnerd an’ fi’tty...” Kustaad belched. “I gotta... I gotta... uh... I gotta  _baby_... tha’ss closer to his age’n I am.”

La’ming chuckled. “Babies always gotta get crushes onna grownups,” she said. “I remember this one time? In Freeport? I was only a hundred and thirty, but that didn’t matter... This li’l fifty-year-old squirt tries to sneak into my tent after th’ show...”

Mak’arune latched on to Montgomery’s arm. “Y’r th’ bess’ boss inna wholewide worl’... di’joo-di’joo-di’joo-di’jooo... know that?”

“You’re very drunk,” said Montgomery.

“...didn’t notice until I was halfway outta my costume, y’aw’msayin...”

Mak’arune’s eyes began to mist over. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’ll be less mad if I have my arm back, thankyou,” he allowed.  _I’ll be really mad at you tomorrow, when you can appreciate it._  To add to the freedom, he gently tipped Mak’arune towards La’ming.

“...so there I am in tights and skimpy little panties, my bra half off... More’n half off if you get my drift... And he pops outta the clothes basket like, ‘tah-dah! You gotta love me’... so o’ course I-- Hey!”

“Y’re ver’ preddy,” said Mak’arune.

“You’re kind’a adorbs yourself,” slurred La’ming.

The worst thing about tonight, Montgomery reflected, was that none of these Elves would remember any kind of progress they might make tonight.

Damn it.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> I said twins and MAK bonding you dum dum :P
> 
> [AN: That you did. I am a dummins]

It was a beautiful town. High-class folk. Lots of beautiful things. Lots of nicely portable, small, shiny,  _valuable_  things on display for any light-fingered person happening by to help themselves.

Which was what Lulu and Koko had just been caught doing by the City Watch.

“We were just lookin’,” Lulu lied. “We’re gonna put ‘em right back.”

One of them slit open her poke. More glittering tchotchkes spilled to the cobbled streets.

“Oh my gods,” Koko attempted. “Sir, we’ve been selected as some vile footpad’s patsy! We had no idea those things were in there...”

“My babies! Oh, my babies!” A glittering, glimmering vision descended on them from a set of stairs like a cloud of glamour wrapped in feathers, rich velvet, and gleaming gold. She sailed over like a conquering galleon. She had pearls at her throat and what appeared to be diamonds in her hair.

The twins almost didn’t recognise her as shy, mousy, softly-spoken Mak’arune.

“Oh you found my poor innocent babies,” she cooed, sweeping the twins into her arms and kissing them both heartily. “Have they hurt you, my darlings?” she wheeled on the guard with the knife. “How  _dare_  you accost my babies and damage their property! Do you have any  _idea_  who I  _am?”_

Her arrogance sold it, the guards immediately bowed and scraped, tugging at their forelocks. “No, m’m. Our apologies, m’m.”

_“Your Grace,”_  she hissed. “I demand immediate recompence  _at once_  for your astonishingly ignorant behaviour. My babies are clearly distraught at this grievous insult.”

Lulu and Koko took the hint and burst into crocodile tears, with cries of ‘Mommy!” and accusations of gross violence.

In less than five minutes, the guards were falling over themselves to press the purloined pieces on her and the twins, and hustling them towards a fine clothier so the twins could be outfitted appropriately, “So the same mistake can’t happen again, your Grace.”

Koko had a panic attack in the changing room, cushioned against Mak’arune’s bosom and listening to her soft, parental purring. “That was so close,” he kept saying. “We nearly lost our ears. Lost our hands. Lost our lives...”

“Close only counts in Horseshoes and fireballs,” Mak’arune soothed. “Just breathe, now. We’re safe. Safe and sound.”

Lulu was still shocked and awed. “That’s the most phenomenal scam I have ever seen. What the fuck, Mak?” She smirked, “Or should I call you ‘your Grace’?”

“Mommy works,” she smiled. Luume’irma had been milder to her, but she still counted the twins as her babies. “Mommy works very well indeed.”

All the same, they didn’t even try shoplifting for the rest of their time in that town.


End file.
